i wonder
what kind of pretty eyes made you see
how dead i was behind mine
i want to ask
how rosy were her cheeks to dismay you of the cold,pale skin that often met your touch
i want to know
how many milky white thighs,model thin legs, and baby soft knees displayed through high-waisted schoolgirl skirts did it take to quit me as your fetish
i want to hear
the joke that made you laugh, made you type the line you once wrote as mine: you have the humor i long for in a girl
and i probably already know all the bands she listens to,all the sad songs you'd bond over but i want to hear her playlist so i would know what to delete off of ours
i want to read all the poems she wrote so i could stop using the same words,the same forms, so i could stop writing about the same boy or maybe i could just stop writing altogether
tell me everything; the way her glasses frame her innocence,the way she gets giddy over odd things,the way she freaks about comic book and manga characters
i don't want to but i still need to see for myself
how she lights up the room,
how she is the still point of the turning world,how she is everything i used to be–only better
i want to
memorize her, as if she is the blueprint of a home I'll never be able to have,i need to keep her picture perfect existence inside my mind so i could stop choking on all the why's
i should know how good she is at making your problems disappear that i started fading into static too
and maybe you don't want to but you need to know
i get pushed out of my own head sometimes, trying to finish the image of your dream girl,trying to make the pieces fit just so i would know what pretty face,which delicate features, what humor, what magical creature did it take to make you see i was too human to be the girl you could love.
-W.

sorry if our love feels like crisp new sheets,uncomfortable to touch,
unlike the ones you prefer to lay on
sorry if this love tastes too sweet,too cold like coffee left for hours on the counter along with a pile of ***** dishes,leftover promises,all the crumpled packs and labels
sorry if it became too convenient– reaching-for-comfort-food-in-the-cupboard-convenient, sorry if it became too easy, too frequent, too plain as consuming frozen dinner rolls and msg-soaked noodles,sorry if it became boring like tv shows reruns on Sunday nights,sorry if it became too much of a  routine rather than an adventure
sorry if this love sounds like a scratched indie record that's been overplayed,
sorry if the lyrics no longer speak to your heart as they should,sorry if it sounded better when somebody else played it for you
sorry if this love is a poem with no form,no rhyme
sorry if someone wrote it better,sorry if I'm just another boring book in the shelf,sorry if someone else had offered a far more interesting story
sorry if it became too much of a task,sorry if I became unwanted homework when the monitor and console were all you wanted to hold,
sorry if I had been reduced into one word reminders and ticking time bombs in your head,
sorry if I allowed myself to be divided into the least I could ever be
sorry if it seems like trying too much when I know very well I will always be less
sorry it had to start with an apology,
sorry it had to end with more pleas and sorry's
-W.

"Are you okay?" your estranged bestfriend asks me,
lately he's been asking that question as frequent as how I mentally count all the jeepney stops it takes to get to your street– I have long ago shrugged off the thought of how many girls or who was the one girl who had done this before me,if they always knocked on your door on time,if that made them better than me and if that made me less for you–
dodging a bullet might have been an easier task than dodging his concerns, I'm bad at lying so I don't know if he's as oblivious as he claims he is or if he,too, has grown exhausted of all of my unreasonable tears,
I tell him I'm okay,we're okay
despite what lengthy explanation would follow, I would always assure him I'm okay
I repeat it to him like a mantra–if I say it enough,maybe it had to come true someday
I don't tell him about how I started sleeping with the lights on again because trying to find peace in the darkness feels too much like trying to reach for you in the pitch black vacany of your room,
I don't tell him about how,these days I purposely wear myself out to the bone so that at night I'd be too **** tired to think, to think about your eyes, how I knew that at some point they looked at me in hopes of catching a glimpse of another one that had you,how they used to look at me with affection,and how now they just meet mine blankly whenever I would ask you for reassurance
he doesn't know I wear your hoodie to bed,and I'd rather not tell him how it now smells of my tears and pathetic pleas, as if somehow you would feel me crumbling down beneath you whenever I'd beg your ghost in my sleep to please ******* stay
I don't mention about the bottles of poison I have kissed,in search for your lips and how I hate cigaretttes but I've been considering smoking myself to death–it's the one thing you can't quit after all,maybe if my bloodstream starts to run on nicotine I'd understand how you felt,I'd finally be enlightened how you can be so attached to things that keep on killing you while you're willing to let the things that try so hard to be good for you just slip past your hands,
maybe it could make me understand all the trails of why's and how's you've left unanswered the very first time you replied "it's up to you" when I asked you if you wanted me to hung up the phone,
and of course,he'll never know how I struggled to get on my feet after that,with the alcohol buzzing in my blood, my frail legs dragging myself towards the end of the asphalt road,desperate to see lights and people and vehicles headed somewhere other than this godforsaken place,my friend's boyfriend kept telling me I'm too drunk I'm no longer myself,
I waved the finger in front of him because I was sober and I was very much still myself,I was sober enough to know that I loved you too much and that I wanted you still,I was sober enough to know that all I wanted was to run to you to the other side of the city but I know I'm not allowed to,I was sober enough to ask myself how did I become this girl,I was sober enough to recognize my faults, I couldn't blame you if I've turned into a trainwreck,I knew it would be wrong to ask you to save me when I know you could barely save yourself but for a moment I believed you could help me hold the pieces in place so please don't leave, I'll be anything you want,I'll be anything you need
your bestfriend doesn't hear half of my pleas,I never answer him in total honesty anyway,maybe I'm afraid he'd see how low I may have sunk,maybe it's because don't want the words to fall out his mouth,I don't want him to be the one that asks me that question at the end of the day because I'm used to answering that question with," I'm not okay but I will be because you're here and I love you"
-W.

It doesn't matter if it ends,it barely does if  it does so in pieces. As how one would pour vinegar on self-inflicted wounds,whatever end —no matter how loud or painful,the kind that thuds in your ears, shatters into your ribcage— this would meet is to be hushed down. At least it ended with us . At least I was able to see how you looked like when the sunlight shifted in your room,kissing your features the way I would. It's comforting to know that despite it all,I had the opportunity to touch you; all skin, human warmth,and beating wonder beneath my palms, all soul-fed hungers of the flesh,of the heart, of the mind sated by mere existence of I and all the parts that make me so. Even if I melt into nothing, limbs numb from too much running, it's alright as long as I can remind myself that you were there with me,that for every aching minute I had been desperate for release from the abyss you were there,ensuring me that nothing bad will happen if I just carry on, if I don't look back. If I don't look back. Being the stubborn piece of crap I am,you know I still would,I always would no matter how far I may have come, no matter how little you may seem to be on the horizon that greets me from wherever I am. I'll keep running for it is what I'm equipped to do—not fight or endure or build or destroy just run. Despite this, I'll always look back, I'll always gaze where our sun had set,where we met the end as if it was our fate,I'll always relive every moment that comes back in flashes, I'll always feel you pulsing with life beside me,with fingertips meeting mine in a tight embrace, breathy laughs through sunset smiles, promises in hushed tones, apologies recited as prayers under the covers.Death will come to claim, reality will collect its dues but their moment will be nothing but hazy memories for all I'll keep is you,us,how we were bright, burning,golden. You are all my sunrises. The Sun will never set despite how much the end comes because I had you and you had me. And that's all that will ever matter. That's how I'll remember it. I had you. I have you.