my tongue is craving for alcohol;
my esophagus is getting dry from all these cryings.
my liver concurs;
don’t worry about cirrhosis, it says,
you’re already gone before it occurs.

An eloquence in silence I have mastered
Wet monsoon cannot compete with me
Even the passerines as they chitter get flustered
For I am fluent in speaking hushed misery.

That writer doesn’t tell the truth
from every pain blooms abundance
and with joy it withers words

Yet that writer has all the honesty
breathing in air of emotions
sinking deep into genuineness.

you can go once you heal,
or you can go now so you heal.
whichever it is,
i hope you're in the process,
and i hope you accept what comes along,
and be understanding of what leaves.

i am afraid to be myself;
what if we turn to stones,
sans warmth and space to breathe,
how am i then to face the mirror?
what if you choose a different path
i was never made to walk on,
how am i then to fare on my own?
what if we were only meant to pass by
and not to stay with one another,
how am i then to look at myself
without seeing your reflection by my side?

i am afraid to show you my all;
what if at the end we’d only crumble into illusions,
how am i then to be myself again?

so darling, please be mine for always.

one of the heart-wrenching questions
you could ever ask yourself:

what happened to me?

mayhap the reason I feel heavy during downpours
is because I left uncovered the hole in my heart where you dug.

A lift from the ground
by the hands of the Father
from far above.
With so little faith,
in every crumble I stand back up.
I say,
Thank you, my Maker!
I fail,
but I have You who are truly The Greatest.

I am my own hero
it’s often exhausting,
but I’d rather be exhausted
than be misunderstood
and misjudged.

No, it is not your heartbeat
Nor is it the tapping of your feet
It's calm yet clamorous
It’s silent yet sonorous
A rhythm complex to dance with
A melody I deliberately hid
I just could not name it
But I patently feel it
Hum me our love song—
A harmony we'll never get wrong.

It’s white, it’s black, it eats a lot
It purrs on the sight of another cat
Sits anywhere like a king on top
An active cat but still gets fat

A pet so keen that ofttimes judges
Watches every move you don’t do best
Strive, darling, strive, lest
Being chased by world’s greatest pest

Oh no, cats are not pests
No, cats aren’t the pests.

you,

the light from the other side of the tunnel,

if these feet of mine go numb
and i can no longer walk to reach
what’s ahead of me,

may i ask you to please burn brighter?

blind me with luminescence
fill me with colors of hope
clear my stone cold and rugged path

and i, to you, shall smile genuinely
and i, to you, shall nod... gratefully.