louise

louise Sep 2018

i love you
and your coffee-stained lips that set my system on fire
–countless voices telling me I’ll burn so i’m supposed to run
but i argue, i love you
–even your parts i thought i could not
your bruised knuckles, fingers that
reek of smoke and betrayal
your tender hands that cradled cigarette packs
when your feet led you to cold alleys and parking lots,
where you thought the pain could be extinguished in the November air
you were looking for something in the dark, polluted haze
it never came to you, but in its absence
you found something else

i love you regardless of this story i’d rather not speak of
as my life is already haunted by my own ghosts

i love you despite of the things that we are
and things we chose to become,
despite how I should remind
you constantly we are not defined
by the the people that we had loved,
who dismissed us as their mistakes,
collateral damages,
as if god had seen our names,
and crossed out their life resumes
what of it then, love?
we could exist beyond those truths
you’d be the wrong that is good
and I’ll be the risky second best choice

i love you although it is not sufficient
to heal us, to numb life
i love you despite how fleeting our moments are,
how i can never stay here or in your heart
i love you even if it can never be enough
-W.

#love

louise Sep 2018

september 21st

let them be heard from beyond the grave,
let them tell the stories of everyone
ravished and burned
buried alongside the evils the ignorant and privileged
threw six feet below this blood-soiled land
while the fool who granted himself
the glory, the honor, the memory that will never be rightfully his,
lies peacefully in a sacred place

do not silence them if they shake the streets with rage
do not shame them if they burn the metro with blinding fury
this is the least we can do, we cannot simply contain the memory
of every homes extinguished into grey smoke,
of every dungeons that turned into homes,
of every child that only had hunger and violence
for teachers rather than their parents,
of every girl that was marked against her will,
of every iron fist that instilled fear,
of every every bullet fired onwards from that day
of the humanity that ceased to be

let the people fight for the yesteryears,
let it be known that the deeds of the devil will never be forgotten
let it be heard that for as long as we draw breath,
he will be condemned back to hell,he will pay for his crimes
and along with him are those that do not speak their minds,
that choose to remain foolishly blind,
that do not sympathise,
let them all be reminded:
history cannot be changed, only remembered
and if bound to be repeated, will be fought like hell because the Filipino may fall but never bend, may falter but never break, may stand in front of the edge, but with crimson-soaked cheeks and wounded fists,
we will take with us to the death, our oath: never forget. --W

today marks the day that a dictator led our country to hell and we will not remain silenced for he deserves topay for his crimes along with everyone who thinks otherwide

#neveragain #neverforget

louise Feb 2018

flight A336W

there is no home for us,
only the presence of a fleeting feeling
forever sewn in airplane seatbelts
painted on windows of moving cars
present in vacant seats of trains

instead of warm welcoming arms
there are only faint figures blurring
as we speed away
only blank faces remain in restless crowds
and their cold empty stares

absent gentle reminders,
voices are blaring on the intercom
dictating where and when to go
as if leaving is the easiest task
at least it is assumed as

I have gone a hundred pages deep
perpetually filling silences with scribbles
I have leafed through many paper cuts and stories
futile attempts to overpower the will to quit
it is nothing but a wild goose chase

we are told to watch out for incoming headlights
shut the door as we step inside
settle safely in temporary comfort
oblivious to what we leave behind
never regretting what we could not lose
-W.

she wrote on airplanes and fell asleep on hotel floors loljk

#life #i #guess

louise Dec 2017

in retrospect

this year I learned that people will call you beautiful yet will never hold you together once the stitches fall out of place,
applaud you for being so **** strong
and that's all they will do, sit in the sidelines, marvel at the way you take every blow,every cut,every burn
maybe you really are just another exhibit for lost souls

months have slipped from my grasp,all that it taught me is you will be adored for your ability to find sanctuary in your solitude,everyone too oblivious to notice maybe there are layers to peel,there is a glass to break,there are barriers to crush
remember the stories you told, how they treated your words as gospel but sin against your name,stain your pages recklessly aware that guilt and hurt could be cleansed with forgiveness

someone will admire the spaces between your fingers yet will never fill them, look into your eyes to compliment them but not enough to see you
and maybe you sang them a lullaby, whisk them away to sleep that will take away the ache in their souls
however, not everyone stays like you,they will wake up and chase their real dreams—which you were never a part of
maybe you painted away all the silver clouds in their skies
maybe you wove warmth and comfort on their sleeves while yours were just tattered and torn

you will be told that you are not alone
you are loved,you are wanted
you don't have to be on your own
you are the best ******* friend in the whole ******* world
you matter
but you really don't
since words are just words
their power I could easily dilute
break them down to what they really are:
reflections of the beings that utter them

that is it, sums all of it up
happy ******* birthday
happy ******* new year
I hope you live a long,happy life
I hope you don't spend sleepless nights,asking over and over again why it hurts the way it does

when all you wanted to feel,all you wanted to do this year is know how it feels to be truly loved, not just for the sake of the things that make you who they think you are
I do not want to be beautiful nor graceful
I do not want to be strong, conventionally admirable
I do not desire to be smart,to be the good daughter
I do not wish to master any of her art
I do not long for her traits that makes you want to hold her
I do not ******* want your compliments,I have no ******* need for your encouragement, there is no room in my heart for your good words
- W.

louise Oct 2017

you & i at midnight

What's the point of touching you, of being this close to you if there's someone else's name woven in your soul,etched on your skin?
I could spend eternities tracing figures on your body,
Familiarize myself with every kink,every curve, every uncharted territory,
With the steady hum of your heart against my palm,
With the way you cage me in your arms but all these would be nothing but futile
For I'll never find shelter inside your skin—somebody else's home I'm trying to fill in.

I could spend all night,memorizing you by heart like the back of my hand
But yours would still feel limp in my grasp,longing for another's touch to lead you back where you'll truly feel alive.
I could break you down line by line as if you're my favorite rhyme
Yet you'll never fit in right in these writings of mine—you belong in someone else's art.

There is nothing comforting in these nights we share,when you'll always be on the look out for another in the crowd as I search your face,trying to find any trace of affection granted as mine.
The rain can't wash you out of my system if you always pull me back down, hold me close under these sheets of ice,keeping me from the downpour outside.
To tell you the truth,I'd rather be there than be searching for warmth in the coldness of your presence.
I'd rather run towards the uncertainty of the night than stay with you under these blinding lights,where with every word I speak,I come closer to my inevitable demise.
Leaving offers more sanctuary for here there is nothing—absolutely nothing for me.
-W.

Lol what even

#unrequited

louise Oct 2017

apathy

taste the metal on your tounge
you are singing a death song
stop firing your word bullets
for they do not all wear vests

stop asking how does this feel
if it is made up or real
pain does not need evidence
for tragedy has no face

please hush your judgement for now
listen and take it in slow
after,tell me,tell me then
things are always what they seem:
‎
silences that are too loud
drowning the beats of our hearts
wounds that are not surface deep
shadows robbing us of sleep

look,there are monsters that feed
on us,not just under beds
even while in broad daylight
even when we seem alive

they all suffer a slow death
the end—they meet like their fate
only here they still remain
their bodies numb to the pain
-W.

#endthestigma #mentalillness #depression

louise Aug 2017

when you aren't them: a poem

I see you wincing in pain, eyes half shut
knuckles turning white as you tried to fight
tried to fight their words in your head
crying out, screaming in pain,saying
"You don't understand and you never will"

It feels right to struck them
slicing through their flesh with their own blade
sharp words fueled by foolishness and self-assurance
screaming, screaming
"You don't understand and you never will"

Because you are what you are,
Each time a laugh
escapes from their poisonous mouths,
amused with their callous jokes
feels like a stab,a strike, a blow

You grieve for your people
while they sit and jest
forgetting how we are of the same blood and flesh
only separated by miles and faith

And if we could only scream:
It's easy to joke about the chaos
when you're not helpless in the city of lost souls
using your gun trigger of a tounge
ignoring the fact that somewhere real bullets are being fired
the sound of bombs going off piercing the air
as people scramble, scatter, and run for their lives

It's easy to joke about it
when you're not there
robbed of your rights
staying hidden, cowering in fear

It's easy for you to act like this
like an immature piece of sh*t
hiding behind your screen
convincing yourself that if you pretend long enough
maybe they'd cease to exist

But they won't disappear
see all the bodies laid in the sidewalks to rot
see every household and streets stained crimson with blood
hear the children weeping for their mothers and fathers
hear the sound of mosques and hometowns crumbling to the ground

See them, see the fallen men in green
their eyes cast upward to the sky
their blood sprinkling the earth
agony written on their faces
for this is the price of keeping their solemn vow

It's easy to wallow in apathy
easy to carelessy throw words around
when you wouldn't be greeted with caskets
when you wouldn't be driven out of your land
when you wouldn't lose the home of your faith
when you are not them

You forget that once Mindanao
is completely consumed,devoured
they'll be coming for us
by then, who will fight for you
who will pray for you
maybe no one,maybe they'll just joke around
and they'll laugh because they aren't you

And you'll remember when you weren't them

So see them, flinching as you laugh
fighting your words in their head
crying, screaming
"Please, please, please stop"
-W.

---I swore I'd never do this again but some things just kept pushing me to my limit like insensitive jokes regarding the crisis in Marawi,
told and laughed at by insensitive people. While you sit in the comfort of your own home, actual people are being murdered, taken away
and robbed of their homes and you dare to joke about the terrorism happening there??! The most twisted part of it is the fact that
you kept on condemning Muslims when they are all nothing but victims , don't even try to say that you are only joking about saying
that your classmate or friend is a terrorist because dude, that kind of stufff--it stings big time, it is not only offensive to them
personally but to their family and culture as well.