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Mar 2021 · 296
maureen Mar 2021
there was a silence after a kiss;
lips parted yet no sound escapes.
a pause, a thought lingering midair
the fondest smile, a loving stare.

if i could reach through the matter
feel your auburn hair
graze the back of your neck
feel the weight of what's mine.

i could pour my heart out.
it's the most precious sound;
feel your heartbeat. vivify.
Jan 2021 · 147
puff together
maureen Jan 2021
constricted attention on a single point
pupils dilated and knees buckled
upon the crescendo's arrival
as if a magician's act
with a glimpse of an eye it disappears
like the flicker of a fire
you could have sworn was once there
the lights shining behind the curtain wane.
the ground rumbles as the mind twists out of recollection
it dissipates into thin air.
and you wish it remained.
and you wish to reach out with all your might
and you wish your gaze upon it would never tear.
and then you wish you knew why
and then you place blame on the world's shoulders.
someday it would be back in your palms
and gracing your sight.
someday, when the time is right.
someday, when it is willing to ignite.
Aug 2020 · 274
maureen Aug 2020
the sky paints a familiar purple
a lilac trailing in the form of clouds
its vivid reflection dancing upon your skin
and your fingertips, and mine,
and the corners of your lips.

sometimes, it's in the bruises on your knuckles
or the cold blueberries on somber evenings
the way lavenders adorn your long dark hair.
windswept yet sightly.
and your darling voice would lull me to sleep
and send my soul alight.

but time and again,
its the middle ground for the head and the heart
the brief moment between sunset and evenings
the mauve that says i love you without need for words.

assurance and certainty placed among the berried table
the courage to wade in it's deepest depths.
avert your gaze skyward and see
even the vibrant heavens can be
a place where you can lay your soul to rest.
May 2020 · 518
maureen May 2020
kumakaripas ang takbo ng hangin.
lumaho na ang kisap ng mga bituin.
marahil ganito talaga kapag sabik na sabik and damdamin -
kaluluwa ay tataas ngunit unti-unting bababa rin.
Apr 2020 · 232
time machine
maureen Apr 2020
i've seen my lover's death
countless of times
her unconscious figure lain;
pooling blood the color of her hair --

rewinding time's arms
my fingers shall bare pain
to taste the sweet petrichor
that surrounds her once more.

to die is vain
and to love an honor -
prickly rose to a chest

i keep chasing the hour you've gone.
Feb 2020 · 200
maureen Feb 2020
neither nightmare nor a dream
stained in mauve are the back of my eyelids
hued with olives floral fadings be
i wash my crime off, one spatter at a time
and erase any false pretenses.
oh how i long for a canvas that's mine
a pulse to be uphold with nails of luster
to an empty museum dark and forlorn
smile. flash. take heed. don't ask for more.

preserve the art forever.
Feb 2020 · 228
feb 13
maureen Feb 2020
“love isn’t easy” they say;

but it seems to go smoothly when you’re falling
free and unharnessed,
into pools of love
where smiles naturally find its way
and everything feels right —

until gravity shifts and tides change
and trust is lost and the pain remains
realizing your hands and chest are empty,
when there’s nothing left but that sinking feeling
that never leaves.

and they were right.
Feb 2020 · 188
Act I, Scene I
maureen Feb 2020
Love is nothing like what is shown on-screen;
Bouquets lavish, flowers never-dying
Every conflict resolved as if foreseen
Hearts so warm, characters end up singing.
The love that's beyond cameras and lights
Is love embellished with imperfections -
Behind their flowery, script-induced lines
Lies no such true feelings and emotions;
Though love may not be sunny days in June
But the darkness in the sky at winter,
Having real intent behind "I love you"s
Are lines more worthy to be delivered.
Love is nothing like what is shown on-screen;
But more deserving of happy endings.
Jan 2020 · 149
maureen Jan 2020
i feel the surface of my lips go dry
the lips that used to call you so much
& i look for you in my dream unknowingly
& i still call out your name as i slumber -

maybe it's become a habit instead
i live, everyday, unable to erase it
the sound of your name i want to forget

but think it’s a lie that i want to forget you.
svt al1 track2
Dec 2019 · 184
speed of light
maureen Dec 2019
how fascinating it is
to read about things that exist
within the vastness of the universe,
where though one looks up to the highest skies,
they cannot be seen by the naked eye;
where its existence would only be known to man
through its discernible temperatures,
unimaginably scorching —

& how dismaying it is
to look down with eyes, unbearably naked
at where the spaces in between our fingers are filled by one another,
where the existence of two clasped hands
is discernible to any man with sight;
but unlike the entities in the galaxies,
there is no warmth at all within.

how amusing it is
to compare us, insignificant beings
to greater things lying within the universe,
to rethink the clear difference
between what is visible, and what can be felt;
a reminder that what once was scorching
could die out in a blink of an eye.

and the world would continue to turn on its axis as if nothing happened.

(how utterly disheartening it is, indeed
to slowly step back and realize
what truly exists, and what only existed
at the speed of light.)
Dec 2019 · 977
maureen Dec 2019
only the feeble-minded
refuses to regard time
as restraint.
only with ear ringing, heart pounding
will you realize

its already too late.
my diffuser, oh how shortlived our love be ·
Sep 2019 · 469
& smile for me
maureen Sep 2019
blazing wintertime
a white, silent wolf weeping
at plane's betrayal.
Sep 2019 · 5.7k
so kiss me
maureen Sep 2019
fingertips on mine
tell me that you'll wait for me
dawn breaks; the day comes.
Sep 2019 · 328
so far (it's alright)
maureen Sep 2019
it's all the matter of:
waiting for the calm
despite having the storm
just pass by;
having a mind crippled with
"i don't even
want to try."

my hands remain shaky,
my body remains tired.
my soul remains weary,

but so far,
it's alright.
Sep 2019 · 214
nights are lonely
maureen Sep 2019
they have always been
and always will be.
the morning doth bring laughter,
the sunset a sign of dawning anxiety.

it is loud with every chirp,
it is eerie with distant silence,
it speaks words on top of words,
it is all the layers of tame violence.

(i want to believe there is someone.
i want to believe there is laughter filling the room.
i want to feel the warmth again,
i want to see the sun rise again soon.)
Aug 2019 · 448
tacky glue
maureen Aug 2019
i have a memory so distant
where i put pieces of me unto your palms
& whatever you do with them
i still trust
     remembering your faithfulness
     fixing what couldn't be fixed
          until i am fully mended

it is still distant—i look back on it
as if there's fog in the way;
     & when i shatter once more
          you put me back together
          even when i don't ask.
          you do it every time.

and the fog has been lifted
& from the distant memory i recall
you have always been keeping my pieces intact
          your love is the strongest adhesive;

          i survive every fall.
Jul 2019 · 264
coffee shop soundtrack
maureen Jul 2019
talk to me in the form of glances
coffee held in one hand
until we finally muster the courage
to intertwine the other
Jul 2019 · 570
hell is so close to heaven
maureen Jul 2019
it's easy to tell the difference
between wrong and right
it's easy to tell how much it contrasts;
deciphering black from white.

yet often does the shade
make everything look gray,
shadows cast may trick your eyes,
even the strongest tinge can fade.

they're a long mile apart -
a fire and a golden cup;
the fire is bound to grow
and could be put out with a puff;

yet if you let yourself be fooled
nevermind the salient rut;
it is in a ditch of eternal regret
in which you are bound to end up.
Jul 2019 · 6
youth, personified
maureen Jul 2019
i felt youth in the form of laughter;
the sound bouncing off walls.
light from the sweet summer sky
makes our smiles brighter somehow.

slowly, yet very surely,
you're teaching me to enjoy my youth.
we'll seize the day,
we'll keep laughing until our stomachs ache.

we'll fall in love like there is no tomorrow.
Jun 2019 · 343
maureen Jun 2019
a tangled mess is
what most would call it,
wrapped in a series
of unblossoming madness.

i was blinded by the fact
that i'm letting these roots grow
that i've forgotten to **** out
the thorns of all my sorrow.
Jun 2019 · 214
maureen Jun 2019
her fingers tap on the wooden table
her, with thunder across her face
emotions caught in dire
eyebrows etched together

impatience. every glum beat of her heart
translate into her fingertips.
i feel sorry. tightness wraps around
my neck. eyes search for answers.
there were none in plain sight.

tap. tap. tap.

then silence.

then she left without a word.
maureen May 2019
my bones are tired
all energy stripped away.
my love, you're my rest.
maureen May 2019
what if my fate lies
on a silver surface?
my plans and doubts
all thrown into a furnace.
be still and figure out
what your heart yearns for

flip the silver coin,
then flip it once more.
(he said, 'what better way to make important life decisions.')
Apr 2019 · 1.4k
maureen Apr 2019
you seem like a complete stranger
when i find you at your most vulnerable
it's like i'm looking through eyes
dark, vast, unending,
that everything that's far behind your eyelids
seems so distant

when you're at your worst
and i'm struggling to find
the sense of familiarity;
my footsteps become cautious
every movement becomes uneasy
i would hold you with shaking hands

but i wouldn't mind
i would be here
and keep you close
and tell you to breathe
and offer myself to be your anchor
feel my heart against yours,

for even the stars themselves collapse sometimes.
Apr 2019 · 250
maureen Apr 2019
i will always know you
as the boy from across my seat
with hands like fire
a touch so electrifying
rekindling every spark
that as died within me

it has always been you
with a smile so beaming
one that could chase away
clouds of misery
with broadest shoulders
on which my agony is carried

yet out of all the things
i always knew you for
it is your constant presence
that never seemed to remain
though your sunshine
would break away the rain,
it was always fleeting.
it was always in vain.

this feeling of subtle doubt
has resided with me now
has it always been you
or have i always been me
who wanted to keep to myself
the flames within your palms.
Apr 2019 · 677
maureen Apr 2019
army green sweater
skin as frisky as leather
is there a feeling any better
than touching our thighs together?

friction and depicting
confusion from intrusion
i heard you write about me,
is that quite an assumption?

in moments gazes would meet;
masks of ice, to your eyes would shield —
is it to keep you from the seething heat
from the pits of my psyche?

with your coffee left too long in the open,
all you held was your soul and a pen.
struggling to find words to describe your sentiment
of feelings discerned with eyes so sunken.
(circa 2017, for an old friend)
Apr 2019 · 208
maureen Apr 2019
to think there was a time
flowers would bloom from where i walked
adorning trails towards my destination
marks of grace to which eyes would follow
petals continue to grow, unperturbed —

now, my footsteps just abide
within the corner of their keen eyes,
though blossoms i hastily step on
i continue each defiant stride,
weary knees begging to arrive home
enduring a journey from the path so tedious
i no longer leave traces behind
on asphalt, dismal and porous.
Apr 2019 · 348
maureen Apr 2019
i'd rather fuel the fantasy of having you close
than having to deal with the smoke when you leave
you, existing to set my heart ablaze;
me, trying to put out the fire
by standing under the rain.
Mar 2019 · 419
coffee boy
maureen Mar 2019
you have become
an essential part of my body
the part that's flowing with endless
mishap and poetry
the kind that keeps me awake
keeps my nerves on every edge
and my heart beating
way out of time

the kind that i need a dose of
every single morning
enough so that
the bitterness in me
is tamed down
by your love and cups of milk.
it completes me,
it courses through my veins

and i'm afraid that i might need you
too much that it's unhealthy.
Mar 2019 · 773
ghost probabilities
maureen Mar 2019
like wallflowers growing peacefully,
with asthenic transparency
i perceive everything with eyes so weary
yet pick up the little things even angels cannot see.
leaping from star to star,
yet never knowing where to land,
traveling to places unfamiliar  
casting shadows on every space at hand.

i can't help but wonder how it would feel to exist
with a presence that would linger,
one whose souls would reminisce,
where my voice would echo;
not as a croak of sullen desperation
but a sound that would cut through
the haze of hopelessness.

i would begin to think about the probability
of my misguided existence,

invisible, but sees everything;
no flesh and bone, but is hurting.
Mar 2019 · 886
i yearn for destruction
maureen Mar 2019
i yearn for destruction
upon the social construct that states
that love is always associated
with flowers and sunny days.
love has barely brought about
bright colors and clear skies-
all it's left me is a chaotic head
and an ear that's deaf to lies.
maureen Mar 2019
it is of blood red and unexpected,
in an ocean of sorrow and abhorrence
it is an illusion of improbability
in a world of utter blandness

trusting the waves to carry you out
despite being wounded in every way,
never knowing that the sharks themselves
were the ones who once promised to stay.

i think it’s best, when the sharks come by,
to just keep a supply of recollections
and a bottle of water for when the tears dry
when i swim right back to shore.
Mar 2019 · 472
the poet & the horror
maureen Mar 2019
‘it’s always nighttime in prison’
they tied their feet together;
every vowel lives on
until the morning sun hithers

pages thrown to sea,
the deep blue churns recklessly
their hearts are the coldest stones
they have thrown right at me.

he would carry on his back
a piece of the burning sun
and after the ink runs out
would he escape and run

his brothers will never wait
inscriptions he made will eventually fade
horror rots upon the walls of his brain
but poetry will keep him sane.
Mar 2019 · 611
rose-colored boy
maureen Mar 2019
you're the certain type of blossom
that needs no such weeding out;
even sunrises and sunsets are enthralled
to make their way into your mouth.

while there's me who doesn't hold anchors
but keeps sinking deeper into the ground;
me who lights torches into flames
only to eventually blow them out.

i figured it takes a strong heart and soul
to look forward to rainbows during a downpour,
to see the stars through the thickest brume
and to endure life like it's just an adventure.

but i simply cannot see the world as perfectly as you
because rose-colored boy, no matter what i do,
we just can't all be like you.
Mar 2019 · 403
handle with care
maureen Mar 2019
midnight whisperings say
'i'll take care of you'
yet morning words declare
'i don't need you'.

you hold me so gently
like a new set of china—
yet pour inside me
hot, scalding, tea.
Mar 2019 · 331
of love & lullaby
maureen Mar 2019
in those symphonies lost to old memories
memories tinted the sheets red
of anger, of hatred
of love that has faded
a telling sign of regret
the bridge builds up
every step and half note gets hefty.
follow it down to a hole of separation.
bid your symphonies goodbye
even in the darkest pit - you can’t hide
the memories are to be let go,
as the refrain comes
will the sound fade out to cry;
the sorrowful moment weighs down

the sweetest part of a lullaby.
Mar 2019 · 633
uncertain skies
maureen Mar 2019
the weather confuses me

as so do you.
the way it's clear one moment
then clouded the next;
how uncertainty is thicker
than that of the brume.

constant rays of sunshine show up
from the irises of your eyes—
still, i stand my ground,
as slight drizzle falls
scattering down
from the fogged up skies.

hesitating to pour everything out.

— The End —