you are south
to someone who's facing you from the north.
you are east
to someone who's facing you from the west.
no matter the direction
they're facing you,
it'll always be different.

but you,
know that you're the center.

you are your own compass.
no matter the direction
you go,
always remember
that you are in the middle of it all.

i've always been consumed
by my negative thoughts.

it's scary.

people see me as a mysterious person
but after the clock strikes 12,
the magic is gone.
you see the ***** clothes and rags...
everything is bad.

but im just wearing them.
i can take it off.
i can strip naked
leaving only my body: my vulnerability.

that's what i want to show,
but i think
this vulnerable body of mine
is too fragile
that once you embrace,

you can't let go

because the moment you do,


it crumbles.

was hurting me —
leaving me for good,
enough for you?

did the skin of my former past self
that you demanded me to remove too early
enough to use as a bandage
for that someone who hurt you before me?

were my tears enough
to wash away your so called “sins”
and redeem yourself
from your self inflicted misery?

i know i was never enough for you.

that was the first thing i realized
when i saw the change of color in your eyes:
from dilated pupils to stares that were dry.
how could you say so much when all i heard was your sigh.

was hurting myself —
when i know you’re existence was no good,
enough for me?

you have seen my tears fall
more often than my friends.

you, my dear balcony:
audience of
lights from houses and buildings,
cars passing by,
the moon,
and the stars.

but tonight, my dear audience,
i have to apologize.

for my spectacle of  melancholy
has shifted
to a grand finale of celebration.

request an encore.

dear you,

im hurting so much. i don’t know what to do. you gave me an idea of what it could be to fall for someone again and when i finally figured that i should give back, you started drifting away. it started with you being busy and then you just slowly don’t text as much as you did before.

i’m sorry if i lashed out, for being honest. for telling you that im hurt. because you told me you could put up with it. you told me it’s okay. you told me that u like me. but i guess you’re  now starting to regret ever saying those words because i don’t even hear u say it anymore. you’re not assuring me that you’ll be here. that you’ll stay.

my friend told me that i should go all out. that i should start loving and making an effort to fall for u even if it hurts. im doing that now. i learned that i should just give out love because once i get tired, it’s gone. but i don’t think mine will just be gone.

im giving out 80% now that you’re giving 20%. it hurts so much. i never thought actually telling u that i like u ever helped. it’s as if, you’re done playing with me. was this all a joke? u got the *** since we were both *****. but is that it?

i know ur going through a lot of problems now and i dont want to be part of it. but the more i try to disassociate myself as part of your problems, slowly im becoming one.

u know what hurts? when u told me na ur disappointed in urself because you cant keep up with my efforts. the fact that u know it and cant follow through hurts so much. but i will stay. ive never given myself fully to a person so if u suddenly tell me na u dont like me anymore, then i wont have any regrets, let this be my way of testing my own limits. on how long i can stay till i finally realize this is worth it.

retrograde is ending in three days. im afraid that when it ends, our relationship will too. and u know what scares me? if we do end, in three days, ull go on with ur life the way it should be and mine will never be the same again.

as if from the very beginning i was only an option. a game u won but for u has no bearing.

but in the bright side, retrograde is ending in three days. im excited that when it ends, our relationship will start fresh again. and if we do start again in three days, we’ll go on with our lives the way it should be and both will never be the same again.

telling me from the very beginning i wasn’t an option. i am your choice. we stopped playing the game.

i think
the dam was already broken
when you arrived.

i think it was waiting for someone to fix it
but all it received was band aids and glu tac and never a good repair.

didn’t you see the sign
before you enter?

“broken dam, don’t enter.”

so please.
when i say

“i’m broken. ****. don’t enter.”

don’t.

i wish i could go back to the first time i fell in love.
no hurt. no pain. no overthinking

it was going to a new place you don’t know the people around you. smiling as you walk the alleys thinking if this was where you’re supposed to be in that exact moment.

it was ordering food you never really tasted before but the reviews from your friends and family told you it was good. but not always good. sometimes it was bad. sometimes it was heavy. but you bite into it anyways. thinking it’s not so bad after all. something you could enjoy. something that could be your favorite.

it was getting an erasable tattoo. something that’s permanent but could be washed off. but u didnt want it to. you wanted it to stay. for it to be there on your skin forever. but slowly it starts to come off and you would want to get one again but it’s not the same feeling as you had it the first time.

it was the first time you learned how to drive. it was scary. the good kind of scary. you would want to drive it for miles. go to places you always wanted. playing your favorite song on loop. until the gas runs out and it did. it ended. it didn’t crash. but the excitement it made you feel, did.

they say first time’s always the charm. beginner’s luck. but even if i wanted to deny it. to forget that i ever did it. sad to say, i’m done with the first times. i was charmed but only once. and it never came back.

now love isn’t what it’s supposed to be.

you went back to the same place you thought was different; you thought was strange. now it’s the same alley you walk on almost everyday. nothing changed. but they way you see it did. it was dark and cold. the charm wasn’t there anymore.

you ordered the food you thought was your favorite. thinking about the reviews, good and bad, that was told to you and now you know why it’s bad. the charm wasn’t there anymore.

you had the same tattoo. same spot. same design. but now permanent. you wanted it to come off but it couldn’t. you thought it’d make you feel less alone. but even if the ink stayed on your skin till the day it turns to ashes, the feeling you had when it was still temporary wasn’t there anymore. you think of making it your own charm but the magic wasn’t there anymore.

now you drive the same car. you’ve been driving it for years now. it became a chore.

you drove down the alley this time. you got yourself your favorite food even if you’re sick of it already. you check on your tattoo wondering if it’s expensive to have it removed. you’re driving. wishing that one day, you could go back to the first time you fell in love.
because you’re hurt. you’re in pain. you’re overthinking.

people would
tend to excite
themselves
on the first exchange of
“I love you”s

but i’d rather
find myself hurting
in the future
waiting for that
heartbreaking text of
“it’s me, and not you.”

brainstorming

i sit down on a bus ride home and there’s this idea swirling in my head. i thought to myself,
“this actually sounds right. i should write this idea down.”
i took out my phone and wrote the first few words this idea in my head gave me.
i know I’ve written something. i know i’ll get back to it when i get home. i know there’s more to this idea in my head that will turn this few words into a sentence. to a paragraph. never ending word structures until i see fit.
i know i’ll finish this soon.

i put my phone down and stare outside the window. the view is nice. thousands of cars passing by as the traffic goes smoothly. another idea comes to mind. this time, it’s longer than a few words. it’s a jumble of thoughts. thoughts about cars moving, sound of traffic, the love of movement, and time passing. as these thoughts swirl like storm in my head, i pulled blinds of the window until only a slit of light passes through, a line of moving light flickering, i reach for my phone and open my twitter. i scroll through my timeline until the storm turns to rain, to drizzle, to quiet raindrops and at last, to a calm sunny day. thoughts i wish i’ve written, now long gone thrown in a heavily locked safe inside my head with the password written in a paper inside of it.

i scroll through my timeline again and i came across a poetry slam. as an emotional person, i cry at his words as if it actually was meant for me. as i continue to listen, the sunny empty day inside my head starts to create dark clouds again. it growls and rumbles, spewing lightning bolts down and i quiver. i am afraid. i know it wants to be heard but i try my best to ignore it. thunderclaps. it spoke. it rang my head till it couldn’t be ignored. i gave in.

i wrote. this time with all the words this dark cloud in my head gave me. there was no order. no structure. no idea. just words and pure emotion and i wasn’t stopping.

my fingers became a whirlwind. the storm in my head in sync with my whole body. i tremble. i am the storm. i stormed down the emptiness of a blank note page with thunder of words. rainstorms of emotions. lightning bolts of phrases, of sentences.

as the storm inside my head slowly turns to white, wringing its clouds to drizzle light rain. i add the finishing touches. the storm knows our work is done. it bids goodbye and gives me the calmness of white clouds and sun. i became calm and the bus stops.

i miss my jaded self. i miss the person who got hurt so much his only option was to bleed ink and cry poetry. i miss the dark rooms filled with only the noise of the streets below and lights from buildings across.

the alcohol stained floors, the cigarette butts on the floor, the messy bed, a sight i thought i’ll never long for but here i am.

lived in different rooms all over manila. different rooms but overall same angst. i miss them all.

as i look again in the mirror. a version of myself with content written all over my face and body. i let out a big sigh because soon enough, this face, this version of myself, will also be part of the things i’ll miss after a year or so.

i miss my jaded self.
and soon enough, i’ll miss this content self too.

i have so much

lust

to give

and

love

to receive.

it was
an emotional fling
—we both cried.

i cried because
i couldn’t have you;

you cried because
he’s with somebody new.

i was able to rise up
from the same waters
that i drowned in.

have i gotten out of the water?
i guess not.

but i did learn to swim in it.

sometimes,

princes - s
wait - i
at the - h
top of - t

their tower. - e
waiting for - k
a rapunzel - i
to toss their - l

long hair up - t
tied at the end - s
with a grappling - u
hook and climb it - j