I never trusted that warmth in your tank.
I've always smelled something fishy
About the hot moisture on the glass
And how the water is close to boiling,
Since it's coming from this hell
Where monsters share the night
And leave you waiting til the sun
Rises to scare them to their hideouts.
And I almost caught it red-handed,
'Cause now that warmth is gone
And suddenly you're so cold,
Not the kind of cold
That drips on my palms
When I take you right from the water
To let you play in my hands
And you would find a hole to creep out of
And try to fly
As if this whole world
Is your own ocean.
Now it's the kind of cold
That no longer crawls and squirms
To escape from me,
'Cause you've already found the way out.
And you even left the doors open
As your empty eyes stare at me.
You won't look around now,
Just when you've decided to open your eyes more.
I can no longer see you,
Just when you've decided not to hide in your shell anymore.
But it wasn't that warmth after all.
It was the warmth that wasn't there
When you needed it the most.
And it's such a shame the turtle sticks came too late
And they were no longer enough
To keep you wanting to be home with me.
But they still were no later than my sorry
And bathroom-borne sobs
Which you won't be able to hear anymore,
Or even understand.
And the green in the portrait I made of you,
The pixels of your images,
And your shy face on my desktop,
Can never be as alive as you once were.
But you just can't
Let me place you in this jar
I labeled 'good days,'
Pour over some sand,
And keep you there and wait
Until there finally is a place that we can call ours,
Where our remains won't be called tenants.
Darling, why now?
You will still need a bigger tank,
You will still grow up with me,
You will still marry Shelly,
If ever she makes it.
God, let her make it.
You can't be gone now,
You just can't.
I haven't even finished our song yet.
Will you really leave me here,
Writing songs about valuables I lost,
People I sent away,
And every living that died at my feet?
I guess you will
But I just can't get used to it,
Nor do I want to get used to this;
To have to get up
But not want to wake up
And attend every tragedy
As if I were death's representative.

Shelves, guarding me.
Books, keeping me company.
As I look through the window,
I long to have the wind brush me away
Like how the malunggay plants sway the day,
How the pine tree tricks me when it bends down,
And how the white butterflies gravitate like autumn leaves.
I wish to go outside
And make new friends
And waste whatever's left of me.
But this empty part of the library,
The only place that knows me,
Is where I meet with my best friend time,
And she is the only one to understand my rhymes.

How to make sure
That there is a measure
Between actualities
And the mind's fantasies?

How to make sure
When the caricature
Is more probable
Than the real trouble?

How to make sure
Of one's nature
Only in sentences
Without presence?

How to make sure
That one's kind gesture
Is not given to deceive,
But what you need to perceive?

How to make sure
That you will be treasured
For the way your brain twirls,
When you're a pretty pearl?

How to make sure
You aren't only for leisure
If you can't read
When they play or heed?

How to make sure
That under seizure,
You are held captive,
Even when unattractive?

How to make sure
Your every feature
Will be embraced
Even if you're crazed?

How to make sure
That the pressure
In the sender is equivalent
To that in the recipient?

How to make sure
That one's exposure
To a safe hydration
Won't lead to explosion?

How to make sure
That the only fracture
Happens when you break,
Not when you can still take?

How to make sure
Your preserved stature
Will only be buried
Once you're no longer carried?

How to make sure
For a future
If nothing will remain
But memory stains?

How to make sure
That the adventure
Is worth the cost
Of getting lost?

Electrons, making me feel like a *****.
Where the heck did ADP come from?
I don't even want to wonder why there suddenly is a phosphate group.
How come G3P wasn't a nickname when I was a sophomore?
Glycolysis was not a crisis,
And I understood Miss Minnie's drawings.
Now I have a book with 3D figures,
But cellular respiration was not who it was four years ago,
And I swear I've encountered all of them before,
But where did they all go?
I know their names but not who they are.
Honestly, I'd rather think fermentation occurs in a bar.

My communication skills ****,
How will I ever be able to earn a buck?
I could even lose to a duck.
What is wrong with me, ****.

Ana knows I can't be alone,
So she will mourn by my side,
While I count down
From the start
When...
Love lived a decade ago;
Calendar dated 10th century,
Top chest smeared with last millennium's dust and dried rose petals,
Bottom shelf stacked with the Recent epoch's chronicles in scrolls,
And I wrote this anecdote during the late Eocene,
But I am now an era old;
Too short of memory to remember fairytales,
Too outgrown to believe magic tricks or play a game of chance,
Too outworn to have my heartstrings plucked,
Too callous to bear a soft spot,
Too archaic to belong in any contemporary world,
Too ancient for a technological revolution.
Fixed in a period that won't age,
Absent of a timekeeper, missing every timepiece;
My antique mind couldn't only smarten up for
This relic of a body, camouflaging skin-deep among prototypes,
Preserving the fossils of my endangered heart.
Maybe one day a noble clocksmith will come
And build us a time machine.
Maybe I'll have my youth back
When Ana teleports back to Erin,
Where her misplaced soul will finally be home with the gods,
For I think I'd do fine without her anymore,
As I land inside a time capsule,
Or wake up as a hand-me-down,
In time at long last with today's pendulum clock.
I'd be lucky if it's the clocksmith who takes such artifact.
But until such time warp,
Ana knows I can't be alone,
So she will mourn by my side,
While I count down
From the start
When...

Three early birds broke the flying record today,
Under a ball of yellow light and sky of white cobwebs,
Uphill, amidst a godforsaken town,
At the far end of the deserted residential area,
In front of our binned and bagged house,
On the peach tiles of our topsy-turvy garage,
Inside a scroungy cardboard box,
Between the wasted space and rotten nest made of broom,
Where they left their bodies mushy and misshapen,
Where a colony of red ants now celebrate for a carrion feast.
They flew higher than any in their kind could ever reach,
That they went straight to heaven,
Early for their embellished feathers and wings,
Early for their final cartilages,
Early for their full-grown beak and claws,
Early for their black, beady eyes,
Early for their last rites,
Yet for us to forecast the bad news,
Yet for us to get off of our plastic chairs of indifference,
Yet for us to drop our glasses of lemon juice and inattention,
Yet for us to fumble outdoor and crash the ceremony,
Yet for us to solve the mystery,
Of whether the ball of yellow light radiated enough to fry,
That the three early birds had to fly the coop to oasis;
Of whether our mother's frenzy gave a cold welcome,
That the three early birds had to say goodbye when she tossed the box out;
Of whether I am to blame for yesterday's miracle
Of finding their home attached to the open bottom of our air-conditioner,
Which turned into a tragedy of a falling baby out of excitement,
That the three early birds felt like it was time to join their fourth sibling once again.
Indeed, too early
For the three siblings endowed with a mother and a father,
For mankind is blessed enough to have such a thing as family,
Who claimed the three early ones before the garbage does,
Who could've been proud parents in the future,
For witnessing the becoming of their three youngs
Who came out too soon,
Who were traceless of eggshells,
Who never knew a father,
Who were ****** enough to even be abandoned by a mother,
Who never knew if she even came back for them,
Who broke the flying record.
Indeed, too early.
After days of packing up sentiments,
Donating valuables,
Throwing away memories,
And leaving behind possessions,
I thought, for a moment,
We could save something
But we couldn't.