She can't fall in love with a poet.

It's impossible.
We know what we want
and it scares her.
She'll turn her back to us
the moment we speak out.

We're a handful too many
and only a mere gift to some
How often does a poet
sit alone with his pad and ***?
Fall in love with a poet
Says the poet with no-one
We are *******
heart break is our whipped cream
on a freshly baked pumpkin pie.


That's why this poet
Is writing for his ex girlfriend
Who'll never take him back
but he has to try anyway.

On second thought
Please fall in love with a poet
Even though, I know you can't.

The only part of my day
That I look forward to
Is when I go to bed
And lay there making up scenarios
In my head.

I think of comebacks
To 8th grade bullies.
I think of witty retorts
To my mother's snide comments.
I think of intelligent things to add
To conversations I had months ago.

I think of all the things
I was too scared to say.

And in my mind
I say them.
And pretend how things would be different
If only I had the courage to speak.

So, how are you?
Hopefully, you don’t have that cough anymore,
Because that would be tough for me for sure.

So, how was your day?
You might be up again till the morning,
Because you have been thinking, writing.

So, how is your heart?
If it is hurting,
Don’t worry, I’m here to listen.

So, will you not ask how I am?
For you, that might not be a big issue,
While I’m here, so much missing you.

--Originally written in Winaray--

Ginmimingaw Ako Ha Imo

*Ano kumusta ka na?
Kunta diri ka na gin-iinubo,
Kun diri, masusubo gud ako.

Ano kumusta an imo adlaw?
Bangin nagpiniraw ka na liwat,
Pagpinanhuna-huna, pagsinurat.

Ano kumusta an imo kasing-kasing?
Kin malain it imo ginbabati,
Ayaw kabaraka, pwede man ako mamati.

Ano diri ka mangungumusta ha akon?
Para ha imo, waray la siguro,
Samtang ako adi, ginmimingaw ha imo hin duro.

Karuyag ko pagsurusuntukon ini nga busag nga ****-****
Pero sigurado nga maul-ol
Salit, adi nga ulunan nala

Karuyag ko mamusdak hin mga pinggan nga nakatambak ha banggera
Pero magluluto pa ngay-an hira hin sura
Salit, niyan pagkatapos nala

Karuyag ko kumurahab hasta ako mapaas
Pero may bata nga nakaturog bangin makamata
Salit, tik-om nala

Karuyag ko manrabot hin tawo
Pero naguusahan la ako ngadi ha kwarto
Salit, it akon kalugaringon nala

Karuyag ko gusi-gusion an mga surat nga ginhatag mo ha akon
Pero aadto ha hunos, maupay an kahipos
Salit, sunod nala

Karuyag ko na bumul-iw ngan talikdan ini nga grasya
Pero waray ka bumaya
Salit, ayaw nala

If someone stabs you,
bleed.

Away.
You are so away.
The very word that comes into my mind when I think of you—
when I think of us.
For years now,
we have been thousands of miles away from each other’s arms.
We have been used to it.
This distance never came nearer.
Even becoming farther as time pass,
with us,
treading on different directions.
You are sure and happy that you are there;
I am sure and happy that I am here.
And so we stayed,
wherever we are.
Nobody wants to give up.
Nobody wants to pull the other one
to his or her side of the world.
We both wanted to stay,
from where we are—
away.