i wish our love was

a phoenix

that dies;

turns to ashes,

then revives

again.

memories
of our every
phonecall
are etched in views
i stare
and smile at.

the glass of water
i’ve filled for months
with the slight touch of your finger,
it poured over.

thankfully,
i’ve grown enough
to easily fill up a pitcher.

like the plants

in my garden:

i breathe,

i live,

i exist.

i let the people who

pass by

admire me.

i grow slowly.

i climb quietly.

wait for me to bloom.

our love is poetry:

a series of rhymes
of words with identical ending
having different beginnings.

an assonance
of words totally unrelated
but were fit together as intended.

a consonance
of words that invites a trance
as if urging me to dance.

an alliteration
of words i hear that ignites a flame
but soft and as warm as fleece.

there are poetries

meant to be read,

there are poetries

meant to be spoken,

but all poetries

are meant to be felt.

you are a preposition.

you are in my heart.

you are on my mind.

you are at my doorstep knocking.

no matter

how painful

everything

was for you.

keep

pushing

forward.

love the uncertainty,

be excited of the unknown,

challenge life

to throw everything against you.

after all,

you were able

to pull through

before.

now

you’re much

stronger

to push through it all.

it’s the silence.

           the quiet.

the stillness of the atmosphere.
the silent buzzing,
ringing sound in your ears.

           it’s              

           everything in
           nothingness
           that screams:

the whispers of your past,

the calmness of now,

the mystery of your
future.

           listen.

listen to the quiet as it scream words

your ears cannot hear,

           but your heart
           and mind could
           feel.

i was ready.

i was ready to fall again.
ready to jump without any hesitation.
to see my lips form to a smile for another person.
to feel the butterflies in my stomach come alive again.
to know that i’m falling and someone’s going to catch me, as soon as possible, before i hit the ground again.

i was ready to open myself again.
to show what has been hidden inside of me:
all the darkness that i’ve fought, all the light that i’ve ignored.
to know that i’ll be welcomed, no matter how ugly my past must’ve been, with open arms.

i was ready to be with someone again.
to hold their hands, fingers intertwined, in broad daylight.
to sing my favorite songs in the car as we drive late at night.
to feel the warmth of their face as they pull their face close to mine for what seemed to be a kiss.

i was ready for it all.

but he wasn’t.

i hope
that when the time comes,
the pieces of
your heart
that were
taken away
from you:

some you gave away
willingly,

but mostly were stolen
and you realizing it was
gone too late,

come back to you in another form.

another face,
another smile,
another embrace,
another set of hands to
hold again,

i hope it does come back to you

— replace what’s been taken

as if it was never broken in the first place.

i’m
sad
and you know
what makes me mad?

is when i feel
that my sadness
isn’t valid—

that my feelings aren’t
important.

have you

ever

******

while

listening

to

sad


                s
                o
                n
                g
                s
                ?

Minsan mapapaisip ka na lang
kung ikaw ba ay nagkulang
o siya yung di lumaban.

Mapapaisip ka na lang
kung tama bang ikaw ang nahihirapan,
patuloy na lumalaban,
gulo’y subok na iniwasan,
upang di lang siya masaktan.

Mapapaisip ka na lang
kung kaya ka ba iniwan
kasi kahit gaano mo ipaglaban
— na lahat ng problema niya ikaw na pumapasan
umuuwi ka paring luhaan.

Tama ba na tratuhin ka ng ganito?
na parang laruan na pag sawa na sa iba,
ikaw naman ang gusto?

Tama ba na maramdaman mo
ang sakit na nasa iyong puso
kasi pinili mo siya
kahit alam ng utak mo
na di siya nakakatulong sayo?

Tama ba na sa dinami dami ng taong
araw araw na kumakausap sa’yo,
dito ka pa nahulog
sa taong di ka naman isasalo?

Ang dami kong sinasabi sa ibang tao
na maraming gago sa mundo
na di dapat sila papaloko.
Pero sa dulo din pala,
ako yung magmamahal ng tulad mo.

Pasalamat ka,
ako na yung nagparaya
siguro kasi di ko na rin kaya
lalo na’t nakita kitang may kasamang iba.

Tinago mo pa,
sinabi **** kaibigan mo lang siya
ngunit ang totoo pala,
pag di tayo magkasama
tumatakbo ka pabalik sa kanya.

Di na rin siguro ako magtataka
kung bakit mas pinili mo siya
baka dahil ang puso nyo’y nagtugma
o mas magaling lang siya sa kama.

Bakit nga ba ako nagpakatanga?
Nadaan mo nga lang ba ako sa iyong matatamis na salita,
mga pangakong di ko alam kung matutupad ba
o sadyang uhaw lang ako sa pagmamahal
kaya nung nakita mo ako’t nagpapakahangal
nasabi **** “pwede na ‘to, di rin naman ako tatagal.”  

Sinabi ng mga magulang ko
na lahat ng tao pinanganak ng may puso
na kailangan mo lang intindihin at mahalin
dahil sa dulo, pagmamahal niya’y iyong aanihin.

Pero akalain mo yun,
may mga tao palang tulad mo
na di mo alam kung wala ba siyang puso
o ipinaglihi sa demonyo.

Nakakatawa ka,
na lahat ng dugo, pawis, pati narin oras
sayo ko lahat nawaldas
buti sana kung nababalik mo ’to
pero wala, ginawa mo akong uto uto.

Isa kang patunay
na may mga taong
na kahit lahat ng pagmamahal sayo ay ibigay
nag hahanap ka parin sa iba
ng wala kang kamalay malay.

Ngayon,
tapos na ako.
Di ko kailangan ang isang tulad mo.

Sa lahat ng gago sa mundo,
ikaw pa ang pinili ko,
ikaw pa ang minahal ko,
ikaw pa ang pinagubusan ko ng oras ng ganito,
ikaw pa ang sumira sa’king utak at puso.

Pero salamat din sa’yo
dahil kung hindi sa pang-gagago mo
hindi ko mapapansin na ang pagmamahal di ko lang makukuha sa’yo
hindi ko mapapansin na marami rin palang masasama sa mundo
na ang gusto lamang ay makitang mawasak ang sarili ko.

Andami kong natutunan
di lang tungkol sa mga tulad mo
kundi pati na rin sa sarili ko:
na kaya ko palang magmahal ng ganito
na kaya ko palang lumaban ng husto
na kaya ko palang ibigay ang lahat pati narin aking puso.

Ngayong,
mag isa na ulit ako,
mas masaya na ako.

Kaya sa susunod na darating sa buhay ko,
tandaan mo
nagmahal ako ng gago
kaya ayusin mo ang buhay mo
kung ayaw **** sulatan kita ng ganito.

i still carry
the scabs i picked
off the wound you
inflicted on me years ago
leaving it as open as the first time
you did it. see how my heart forgave
but never forgotten.

i scream quietly:

inhaling my cigarette,

the puffs in between

become my cry for help.

in my book,
you were a whole chapter.

in yours,
i was only a sentence.

if love
wasn’t meant
for fools like me,

then God
shouldn’t have made
you smile at me.

for a long time
ive been telling
myself
to smile
no matter how hard life is.

and for the first time,
in a long time,
i smiled
— without telling myself to.

you listen to that one song
that makes you remember of the pain he had caused you
but have you thought,
this song actually speaks about you more
than it is for him?

i miss writing
the emotions i’ve bottled in.

i guess
when you
frequently pour them out,
nothing’s left for you to spare.

i stopped hoping things will be okay.

i stopped looking at the clouds wondering what could have happened if things didn’t happen this way.

i stopped reading words that tell me life is a cold hard ***** and it was teaching me that i shouldn’t go astray.

i stopped listening to the sound of rain, crying every time i feel my sadness should go away.

i stopped listening to people that begged me to look the other way, forget, and just be happy, be gay.

i stopped learning what it means if i had the choice to stay.

i stopped letting my demons cloud my mind — at least i have the strength to keep them at bay.

i stopped hoping things will be okay.

and it’s okay,

because i realized, all that had happened will come to pass and all these things will be gone one day.

so, from now on, instead of hoping,
i’ll work hard everyday

to make myself happy.
it’s my choice, be it as it may.

my rage
towards
you
is like
a storm.

o,
how i wish
you were in it.

how i wish
everything you ever loved
gets washed away
by the gust of madness.

how i wish
i get to destroy
the image of me
you called home:
spew in tornadoes
until nothing’s left.

how i wish
you get hit
by the thunder
and feel at least,
for a second,
feel the pain
i felt.

but darling,
the storm started
with you in the
middle.

the eye of the storm
spewed with you in the middle.

you feel the calmness now
but if you look around you,
you see that you have nowhere else to go
but deal with me.


so,
if you think
me being calm
in front of you,
is a sign of forgiveness,
think again, my dear
— for the storm is only starting.
wait till i finally move
and see that you’re not in the middle anymore.

di ko alam kung ako lang ang ganito
o marami ring taong nahihirapan ang emosyon ay ipagtanto.

nahihirapan isulat, ilagay sa kwaderno,
buhatin ang lapis, at gumawa ng mga letrang bubuo sa isang kantang ikaw lang nakakarinig.

isang kantang sumusigaw sa puso’t isipan
isang boses na nagsasabing “ako’y pakinggan.”
isang bugkos ng mga salita na di mo alam kung pag pinagtabi tabi mo na sa iyong papel
ay magkakaroon ng kahulugan.

oo.
madalas akong ganito.
na andaming gustong sabihin ng utak ko
pero ni bibig ko o ang kamay ko ay di alam kung paano ito ibubuo.

bakit ang dali magsulat?
pero ang emosyon, hirap na hirap ibuklat?

minsan,
nananalangin ako
na sana may taong lalapit dito
para turuan akong sabihin kung ano nasa utak ko.

ngunit kahit meron mang ganung tao,
alam ko di parin niya makukuha ang aking gusto.
dahil ang mga salita na galing sa utak ko,
na para sa akin ay kumakanta ng napakagandang musika
ay sa kanya naman, halos pareho, pero di gaanong tugma sa pagkanta.

kaya oo.
kahit hirap na hirap ako,
na sabihin sa lahat ang emosyong sinisigaw ng mga piyesa sa utak ko,
tuloy parin ako sa pagsulat kagaya nito.

dahil onti onti kong naiintindihan
na ang lungkot, saya, o mapa ano man,
ay iba iba ang kahulugan sa tao.

pero pare parehong ang dama ng nagagawa nito sa puso.

the sun envies
the way your smile
shines and gives
warmth
to my body
more than it ever could.

for whatever i do,
with someone new,
there’s a small part of me thinking
it could have been with you.

i'm tired.

i'm tired of things i know i can't control but still try my **** hardest to.

i'm tired of smiling all throughout the day making sure the people i'm talking to don't think of me as a **** joy.

i'm tired of faking a laugh just to please the people who throw jokes at me as if i'm not in the room with them.

i'm tired of walking as fast as i can back to my place so i could finally be in peace.

i'm tired of always finding myself in situations i'd rather not be found as i sit in the corner blurring the noise out by reading stuff on my phone.

i'm tired of fitting in.

pagod na ako.

in a meeting in a small room and you want to throw your trash at the other side of the room.

it’s a small room for some. it’s not that hard to stand up, go to the corner and throw it down the bin.

but not for you.

as soon as you see the distance, it just gets farther. it’s as if the room itself multiplied its space 10 times.

your chair clings on to you as if its weight is connected to your body. with its pegs all drilled down to the floor.

the eyes of everyone, oh dear, their judging eyes once you do decide to stand up and walk, you’d feel as if they were just waiting for you to make a mistake. to trip and fall, to spill the coffee you were holding on to your shirt because we all know it’s not the caffeine that makes your hands quiver.

you wait. you wait till everyone in the room goes out.

you, holding that piece of trash in your hand, unlatch yourself to your chair, walk calmly and quietly towards the bin, giving one last glance at the trash you held as if it were the only witness that could tesify the whole story.

you let it go and walk out of the room.

i don’t think
it’s possible
to unlove you

— and i don’t have any complaints.

i’ll just love myself more
until i forget
what it means to
not have someone around

and focus on having
myself around — present at all times.