habang naglalakad ako sa lupain ng mga sirang pangarap, mayroon akong pangitain sa napakaraming bagay. ang mga paghihinagpis tila baga'y tumutulong upang madagdagan ang aking pasan sa mundo. aking napagtanto na ang kaligayahan ay isang kalinlangan lamang. sa aking pagkalumbay at pakiramdam ng disorientasyon, buong buhay ko'y nabuhay sa takot. ang mundo'y pinamumunuan ng mga batas ng poot na matatagpuan sa iba't ibang dako. kaya naman ay ang mga nakararanas ng dalisay na kaligayahan ay isang hindi pangkaraniwang pangyayari.

sa bawat araw ng aking paghihirap, umaasang makakaahon sa ilang butil ng kasaklaman ngunit sa kaibuturan ko, wala akong ibang makikita kungdi ang kasuklaman ng buhay. patuloy akong naglalakad sa mga anino upang maghanap ng liwanag ngunit aking napagtanto'y malinaw kong nakikita na wala nang ibang paraan upang makalabas pa sa suliraning ito.

sa aking buong pagkabuhay, dala-dala ko ang mga basag na pag-asa't mga tipak na salamin. ang tanging sinag ng araw ang natitirang kislap ng aking mga masidhing lunggati sa rurok ng tagumpay. kung iyong titignan ang marikit na lilim ng gintong apoy na nagngangalit sa kanluran, ito ay ang aking mga minimithi na nakalilim sa puwang ng kalangitang asul. nais kong lumipad nang malaya tulad ng isang ibon sa kalawakan. sa mga kislap ng mga tala'y nakatingin, hinihiling na sana ang panagimpan ko'y dinggin. lahat ng iya'y hindi makakamtan sapagkat ako'y isang hamak na bata lamang na nangangarap ng imposible. pinapanood malunod ang aking sariling mundo mula sa aking bintana'y natatanto, mga pangarap ko'y dahan-dahang inaanod.
sa araw-araw na aking paglalakbay sa mga repleksyon ng kadiliman, isa lang ang aking katanungan, isang ilusyon lamang ba ang kapayapaang aking matagal nang inaasam?

umuulan nanaman pala.
paglipas ng takipsilim ang akin isipan ay patuloy na binabalot ng kadiliman. ilang oras nang naninimdim sa gabing lumalalim. kasabay ng pag buhos ng ulan ang pag agos ng mga luha na dulot ng kalungkutan, umaasa't naghihintay pa rin sa iyong muling pagdating. naiinip at  kung minsan pa'y napapailing, kailan kaya muling makakapiling? ilang nakaraan na ang lumipas subalit ang puso'y patuloy pa ring kumakaripas. naiwan sa 'king isipan ang mga bakas **** pilit kong tinatakasan. mga alaalang bumabalik sa mga yakap at halik mo'y patuloy akong nananabik.

umuulan nanaman pala.
kasingtulad mo ang isang paparating na ulan; darating, magpaparamdam at pagkatapos ay mawawala lang din pala. hindi ko maiwasang hindi maging malungkot sa sakit na iyong idinulot.  ang paglakas ng ulan ay siya ring pagkirot ng sugat na iyong iniwan. nakagapos pa rin ako sa iyong mga pangakong napako, gabi-gabi pa ring nararamdaman na para bang nakapaloob sa sako.

umuulan nanaman pala.
maalala ko na naman ang sugat na aking napala. luha ko'y patuloy na sumasabay sa pag agos ng ulan subalit lungkot ko'y hindi pa matangay. nararamdaman ko ang lamig ngunit mas nararamdaman ko ang muling pagyanig. mahal pa rin kita, sinta. ngunit gusto kong ika'y kalimutan na. subalit paano? sa tuwing umuulan ay ikaw ang aking naaalala. paano ba matatapos ang paghirap na nadarama? kapag kaya sa wakas, ang ulan ay tumila na? matagal na rin pala. siguro'y panahon na upang sarili ko naman ang aking unahin at palayain. para sa ikalalaya ng aking pusong iniwan, para sa ikagagaling ng pusong lubos na nasaktan.

sisimulan ko na— sisimulan ko nang makalimot.

pero teka lang muna—

umuulan nanaman pala.
'wag naman sana pero ayan na, papatak na naman pala.

huwag naman sana dahil—
dahil—
maaalala na naman kita.

title: criesofashatteredheart.pdf
file size: 143 kb
date modified: 28/06/2022

introduction:

the idea of love lingers on my running maze of thoughts. the concept of my love is comparable to music that is exquisitely performed while staying in perfect harmony. but love itself is not perfect the way it is. my feelings for someone come and go like the tide. but at the very least, it's not lovely whitecaps dancing on my feet when i least expect them. they emerge to cause chaos just when life has a way of appearing to be a calm stream of consistency. they drag me under with such power that i feel like i'm going to drown all over again, to the point that i can't even take a breath in between endeavors.

methods:

he appeared in my life suddenly and unexpectedly, like a warm summer wind. in a single moment, my heart was captivated from my chest in a split second, and i was unable to stand. when he'd look me in the eyes and say the words i'd been waiting to hear my entire life, he appeared so honest. the things he'd say to me were so heartfelt and genuine as he looked into my face and spoke from the depths of his heart.

never in my wildest dreams did i imagine that i would be able to experience what he showed me. little did i know i’d expect the most unforeseen events in my life. in your absence, i was left to fend for myself on the edge of the universe. i'm on my own in the vastness of space because you deserted me. in between what i've buried and what i loathe is the emptiness, and it rang true. forever and always, a constant and ever-present reflection that there is no one else to trust and follow.

results and discussions:

you took everything you could get away with, but you were kind enough to leave the suffering behind. it is shameful of you to attempt to make amends for me as if i didn't have enough to deal with already. a roaring storm is howling here, and it continues to be there, raging deep within my head that refuses to subside. the very least you can do is let it be.

now i can now cut you as deeply as you have wounded me. i am tormented by the treachery of knowing the truth and never escaping the past. you took me up in the air, then let me fall to my knees and scream. yet i yearn to blossom like the sunflower even when the sunlight passes more dimly than the uncertainty of the promise of love. the dilemma of instruments may be found with thy beauty, and the betrayal of melody can be watch in the eyes when seen through incense. hence, that is the deception performed by the heart.

at some time in the far future, you will find yourselves wishing to the heavens that you had never turned away in our own little corner of the universe.

after all, it's the nature of love, and it crushes my heart that it had to stop before it could begin.

in the middle of the dark dreary night, i sigh and remembered our fondness flight. you were my sun who brought light into my cold and lifeless night. and i was your moon seeing that no matter what i do my life will always revolve around you.

you were my light who tauten up the day and make the bad go away. you showed me your gleam in my gloomy hour and soothed my soul. you shone too bright consequently my skin reddened and blistered. the pain came out on what was just proposed to be good. in spite of that, the wounds eventually healed and you continued to light my way in this world.

as the time passed by you continued painting the starry night sky into a bright blue sky. you died every night just to let me breathe and live the night. i know it makes no sense but the two of us were lost in the past. reminiscing our wounds,  the agony grew bigger and deeper. as we revolved around our range, we were alone in our voyage.

you were my sun that showered the hills with orange, yellow light and waking everything up and i was your moon who couldn't never reached your light for it was fiery illuminated. your light had gotten dimmer in my eyes up until the raging fire that i had once felt for you— shrunk and diminished.

in the middle of the dark dreary night, i looked back on our enchantment. it was a fate when we met but our time were hard to catch and our days never match. as i was the moon dancing with the stars glowingly and luminously, our lips met softly. just like an eclipse, our love created darkness. while hours felt like minutes, it was enough. whilst it was just a short period of time, it was all worthwhile. you were my sun and i was your moon and we were never supposed to collide, but now we coexist as one. and when the time was gone, we drifted apart. tell me, how am i ever supposed to forget the one that illuminates me?

do not let yourself fall in love with someone who is similar to me. for someone like myself will kiss you at all of the most beautiful places in the world, just like art galleries, beaches, and sanctuaries, because then you will never be able to visit such places again without having the taste of blood lingering in your lips.

do not let yourself fall in love with someone who is similar to me. if it takes remembering your name among the lonesome souls, i would forget my own if it means remembering yours. i will make you believe that storms are peaceful and that suffering is a pleasure. you will be swept away by the yearning in craving over something that is consistently reaching but never ready to hold you.

do not let yourself fall in love with someone who is similar to me. with someone who are reminiscent like me, i will wreck your home and hurl apologies at you, which will break apart on the floor and hurt you when you walk on them. i will come to fret about having loved you so passionately. i will always be regretful that i gave it my all without stopping to consider that i was becoming increasingly hurting so bad and exhausted. i will always be sorry that i let myself be fooled by the illusion of your love.

do not let yourself fall in love with someone that obviously acts like me—loves like me for the reason that they are all ghosts from the pieces you broke in me. keeping your safe distance from someone like me is not something you should consider doing. people like me are time bombs; when my mission is complete, i will spatter sorrow all over your walls in violent hues that would let you regret your door had never known my name. i'll never master the art of being gentle. despite the weight of our shared history, i would not be flushed away by the chapter of our repressed memories. you will never be free of the shadows you left behind. and the ghosts will forever haunt you.

humans will always find a way to end things and leave.
we always do.

and when i am gone, you will fully understand
the reason why storms are named after humans.

i was young back then, already into my last year in school. i have waited quite a long time to get old, so i feel like i owe it to myself to make the most of my advancing years. my mom used to tell me that life is a one-way street as if i am too foolish to understand it. i just wish i could travel back in time and be a child again. i just wish i could walk away from the gloom and doom of this life. reliving all my childhood memories by listening to my grandma's fairytales about angels and demons. how can i forget those days when the nights were so short and the days were so long yet there was magic everywhere? those were the days when i made castles and sailed paper boats when it rained. in the fields, where i tried to catch butterflies. those breathtaking and eloquent memories have gone.

i miss the days when i felt so carefree and unencumbered by the burdens of the world. i wish i could experience those days filled with laughter and joy once more. the hot sun and heavy rain didn't matter. everything seemed to work out like a dream. during vacations with grandma, she would fed children delectable cookies and enthralled them with fascinating tales. i love the days when i played with my friends and sat down by the bonfire while singing and dancing on the midst of the night. these were the happiest years in my life and i remember them vividly.

memories flooded my mind of those golden days of my youth. i wish i could go back and be a child again. i’m tired with the sound of my own tears ringing in my ears. i'm tired with continuously fighting my own battles. tired of struggling with challenges that continuously reappear. i am tired of remembering—remembering how i used to be so happy. tired of the blame—the blame i put on myself daily.
for several nights now, i've had to put up these drenched pillows to ignore the past because every time i dwell from the dead and buried, i couldn't stop whimpering in those silent mumbles of the night. those tears seem to be exhausted. they just keep on pouring like a never-ending storm. i can't help to ask above if the tears that i shed every night are the stepping stone to heal the scars that i bear. this sickness is still fresh, as is the misery brought on by unrelenting sorrow. it was tiring to drown on my own anguish. it was infuriating to scream and not be heard. the sounds of my own weep were deafening.

can tears really cure this invisible disease?
can tears really heal these invisible wounds?

because if this is the only remedy to heal the traces of the past—i will let them flow as if i would never get tired. i'll eat everything else until the last speck of each vestige from the past is gone.
tell me—how many seas of tears must i shed before i can see the tranquility i crave for?

staring out the window on hot summer dawn, as i look up in the sky, i vaguely recall becoming trapped in its twinkling stars and made me feel like i was in the midst of a mesmerizing little village at christmas or a sea of fireflies in the woods. however even the brightest star couldn't match with the splendor of the early morning light gleaming through your eyes, or the way you could see every star in your vision. in the wee hours of the night, their radiance was enough to illuminate a thousand cities.

you were the universe, and i was merely a tiny little particle that dropped to witness your brilliance, and so i reached out my hand to you only to be struck by the emptiness that had taken its place in your presence. for more days than i cared to remember, you were barred from embracing me. even yet, i'll keep reaching for yours in the desire that you'll show up along the way to meet my grip. despite the time of day or night, i only hope to genuinely love you like much more than i did the last time we met.

after all, why would anyone ever want to see you go? those moments when the summer breeze can't compete with your warmth and love. there is nothing more endearing than the bright sun rising in the morning. sometimes the flame is too hot to touch, and i have to find solace behind the tree for a while. your figure, on the other hand, will not decay, nor will you be eroded by the weather. your presence is the only one anyone would like to see, much like a bee that is longing for its flower to bloom— i'm a honey bee, and you're a delicate flower. reflecting rainbows after a little mist of summertime fog, having me within you will not bring an end to your dreams. our nights will get more luminous as well as our days as season goes by.

in the blue mystic moon, i ached by the hauntings of you. gazing at the night sky, i embraced the silence of the night and curl into its weary gloom. the shadow of yesterday veils my weary eyes. something drowsy begins to seep from the corners of my muddled mind. i still hear your voice at night, sometimes i wish you did not quit. even the moon misses your sight, i wish i knew why we never said our farewell.

bringing that memories again, i lie here with my eyes closed softly as i think deeply of you while inhaling the scent of the twinkling light. i want to write this feeling as it must be like writing words on the tiny paper so delicate and precious wishing them not to disappear like the bubbles in the air. recalling that lovely moonlit night, we were together on that precious sight. you filled my sky with the stars as you brought out the best in me. you bloomed in me in my darkest night like a moonlight that shines in my soul that no one can see. i am the night sky and you are the light that pack into my soul. it was pretty near perfection as we share the light of the moon. the way the moon dances me from a crescent beam in the sky to a luminescent pearl this is how we share our love.

just like the moon and the sun, we were not meant to collide. our love burned so brightly and passionately that it attracted other celestial objects, resembling the planets to join and admire our ethereal affection. as we revolved in our universe, i chased you like the moon every single day to beg for your sunlight and light up my world. we're just like the moon and the sun, always catching the glimpses of one another, waiting to dash against together. i have been a moon for too long now, dimmed and cold, starving for your warmth. through the endless chilly night, i stayed in our orbit and waited for you. i have faith that the universe destined us to be together. that one day, i will have my full radiance again and you will return. but if the times comes that darkness filled my way, meet me in our rendezvous and see me waiting for you.

can you light up my way home one more time? if not, be my home instead.

ala-singko ng umaga. nakakabingi ang katahimikan ng pagsikat ng araw. walang tigil ang pagtakbo ng oras at tulad ng araw, nagsimula nanaman ang pangkaraniwang siklo ng buhay. patungo sa sintang paaralan na ang bawat yapak ay parang timbang ng daigdig na nakalubog sa aking mga balikat. hindi kayang buhatin kahit pa ng buong mundo sapagkat ako'y nag-iisa sa paglalakbay patungong españa.

sa bawat sulok ng maynila at mga kwento sa mga kalsadang ito, may mga paalala ng mga biyaheng hindi pa nararating at mga pangarap na patuloy hinahanap. sa kanto ng españa't lacson, sa kabila ng paghahanap at pag-asa, hindi natagpuan ang isa't isa. sa magkabilang sulok ng noval at dapitan, ang iyong mga imahe ay tila mga alaala na nakaukit sa pinakaloob ng aking isipan, kumakatok nang palaging handang buksan ang pintuan. bawat hakbang ko ay may kabigha-bighani **** presensya, subalit ang hinahanap kong pagtatagpo ay patuloy na umiwas sa akin, nag-iwan ng hinagpis at naglakbay nang walang direksyon.

"manong para po" ang aking bulong sa jeepney drayber na parang tinik na dumadaloy sa aking lalamunan, humihila at humihila sa mga alaala na tila mga bagyong dumaraan sa aking isipan. bawat sinag ng araw, bawat hagupit ng hampas ng hangin, ay parang himagsik ng damdamin na hindi ko maitago.

sa bawat kanto paikot ng españa, naroon ang mga multo ng ating nakaraan. mga anino ng mga alaala na hindi ko matakasan at sa bawat pagtatanong mo kung may pag-asa pa ba, ang bawat sagot ko ay tila mga punyal na tumatagos sa aking kalooban, nagsasabing wala nang dahilan para muling mangarap.ayaw ko nang lumakad sa landas ng nakaraan, na puno ng  mga bakas na minsan tayo'y nagtahup na patuloy na bumabalik at sumisira sa isipan.

at sa wakas, narito na ako sa dulo ng aking paglalakbay, ngunit ang landas na tinahak ay tila isang malawak na dagat, hindi alintana kung gaano karaming bagyo at baha ang dinaanan. at kung tatanungin mo ako kung pu-puwede pa ba, ang hihilingin ko sa iyo ay mga barya papalayo sa'yo. ayaw ko nang malunod sa unang daan na puno ng kahapon at mga alaalang tila multong ayaw umahon.

at sa bawat paghakbang ko patungo sa hinaharap, ang iyong alaala ay parang banta na nagbubulag-bulagan sa akin tuwing naglalakbay ako. nakakapangilabot. mahal pa rin kita. mahal pa rin pala kita.

hindi na kasingpait ng dati.
pero mahal, masakit pa.

i am someone's story. in one person's tale, i am the girl who plays the role of the comic relief. the one who makes people laugh and smile, as well as providing humor. in one another person’s storyline, i am the main lead, bringing to life all of those desired characteristics. in another's eyes, i may be the wise sage who gives guidance at critical stages in their lives. however, when i stop to think about it, i find that i am the antagonist in someone else's plot. the bad guy, to be precise. and no matter how hard i try to change my ways, the reality is that i am who i am to them, and in certain situations, there is nothing i can do to change it. in their book of life, i am the arrogant evil villain.

but then you came. everything changed when you walked into my life out of nowhere. you appeared in my life like a shooting star and filled my heart with bliss. and i've never felt safer or vibrant than i do when i'm around you. not once in my life have i felt so alive. it seemed as if you were unveiling new layers of greatness to me with each passing moment. i've never seen that much gentleness in a lone soul before. in the shadows, you were gently carving out a space for yourself in my heart without me even realizing it.

you embraced my grief as if it were your own and showed me love as no one else ever could. everytime i felt like i was on the verge of falling, you stayed with me. when i was weak, you were my pillar of support. when i needed someone to weep on, you were there for me. because of your smile, i was able to make my existence on this planet worthwhile. for a long time, it seemed impossible to feel so connected to someone. however, it is quite simple to feel intertwined with you. i can't tell you how good it makes me feel. i've began to realize that i had no idea what it felt like to be truly loved until i met you.

dearest you,

my mind is like a blank paper, seems to be waiting for someone to write it a letter. i do not know how to think, what to say, or how to even breathe. in the past, i have seen the hard things in life pass right through me, and i haven't even bothered to react. it looks like i have never been hurt.

this is not a poem, but rather a letter to my parents telling them that yes, i may be young but i know the feeling of debilitating effects of numbness. that yes, i may be young but i understand the feeling of wanting to drown your overwhelming sorrows in alcohol, smoke, or the company of another person.

this is not a poem, but rather a letter to my family in which i express that the things i've been interested in aren't wrong. this isn't something i picked up off the internet or from a movie; this is something i've felt my whole life. i've come to the realization that i can love anyone the same way i love myself despite their differences.

this is not a poem, but rather a letter to my first love, in which i confess my desire and embrace the tender heart that dwells within me for you. while i understand that you may not believe me or ever see me with you again, the love that i have for you remains in every word i've written to you since it is only when i write my true emotions come out. however, the love that i have for you will only live on in every letter i send you.

this is not a poem, but rather a letter to my mind, in which i convey my view that it is alright to overthink, but that it is never tolerable to forget to breathe. you can't imagine your life without the adventures and warmth you've enjoyed. there is no way to live without conflict or hatred, just as there is no way to live without grieving or shattering. all of this builds to your self. so what's the point of changing it?

this is not a poem, but rather a message to my heart, in which i ask why you are acting as if you don't worry? scared to emerge from the shadows, scared of being crushed, why are you acting as if you are unable to love, as if you are unable to change the world, and as if you are unable to follow those dreams that are passing behind your closed eyes?

this is a letter to them, in which i wonder as to why they are fascinated with who to love at such a young age. why not just wait for it to cross the border? and if it's lost, why are you still there? being in pain and staring as if you are not wanting to try make it today.

this is not a poem, but rather a letter, written to you and your heart and mind in essence. a letter to anyone who wonders while they slumber their laments floating away into the night.

this is a letter from someone who is full of hope and desire to make a difference and leaving a word that you will not be entirely fine if you are not going to beat the whispers from hell.

always and forever,
amanda

mother, i hope you understand that i have my own path to take. i can hear your voice reaching through the halls of my mind, pushing me to follow in your path and be the one to carry the flame of your unfulfilled dreams. but, dear mother, i beg you to realize that my desire is entirely unique to me; they are a symphony of hushed voices that sing to the pulse of my existence.

i want to chase the palette of my grail. i seek to paint the world with the vibrant hues of my imagination and draw a future that reflects the depth of my soul and the beauty of my own dreams. your ambitions have cast a shadow over mine, and the manner in which our tales collide has suffocated the burning spark that dwells within me. i have an intense thirst to be able to look at the world through my own prism and to walk along the road of my heart's desire without the shadows cast by yours. i am begging you to listen to my words because they are burdened with the weight of a soul that longs to be set free.

mother, allow me the ability to roam; i want to experience the thrill of venturing into the unknown and determining my own path. i beg you to release me from the chains of expectations, for my soul craves the ease to move with no boundaries within the boundless horizon of possibility. give me room to breathe and a chance to uncover the layers of my own existence without the burden of your hopes and ambitions. let me have the freedom to find my way through the labyrinth of being alive, to trip, fall, and get back up on my own pace. please spare me the unrelenting storm of judgment and control that washes the color out of my entire existence.

how can i be open in front of others when i feel like i can't breathe because of your suffocating grip? i can't let out the complex web of emotions i've been feeling because you're always holding me back. how can i let others in, if i can't even let myself be vulnerable around you?

i am sick and tired of living in the shadow of your expectations;

i am begging you my whole life to please at least—
at least, let me create my own story and be the writer of it.

or perhaps your dreams would be the death of me.

i wish my mother and father never met.

that is the first thought that crosses to me in my mind whenever things get rough. how i wish they never met, how i yearn for a reality where their paths diverged, where their match was never forged. it's the kind of pain that lies within their union, a relentless ache that seeps into the very essence of my being.

i wish my mother and father never met.

why did the fate allow the stars to align? i did not imagine that in a single moment of cosmic collision, a seed was planted, and i was condemned to bear its bitter fruit. i never knew that the torment would bring forth by the tendrils of their oblivious love entwined.

i wish my mother and father never met.

to envision a world where their lived caused me
chaos. i was craving for too much love and care. a sanctuary where can i break free from the chains of their discord, where my soul can flourish untainted by the weight of their discontent.

i wish my mother and father never met.

in the most grief of longing, i was forced to find my own strength and to stand up on my own two feet. i have learned to navigate the treacherous waters of their fusion, to the salvage shards of happiness wreckage they left behind.

i wish my mother and father never met.

i wish they didn't. i have always dreamt of a life unburdened by the weight of their presence, where the fear of love and its subsequent pain does not linger within me. oh, how i'd die for a world where their love did not cast shadows on my soul, where the scars of their struggles do not color the way i perceive affection. in this alternate existence, i would not carry the weight of their past, their own echoes of their own sorrow. i imagine a life where the walls i've built around my heart would crumble, where vulnerability is no longer a cause for alarm. a life where i am unafraid to offer my own affections, knowing they will be cherished and reciprocated in kind.

i wish my father and mother had never met. i just wanted to take a leap of hope from the love that transcends the limits of blood and anguish. am i really that hard to love?

it was the month of december the night you arrived by the light of the moon. the air smelled strongly with the scent of the pure and chaste blossoms that were white in color. the experience of breathing your aroma is like taking a whiff of a flower, which you could do for the rest of your life. that lovely vanilla aroma was carried by the breeze just before we crossed paths with one another. after that, everything in my life was turned upside down, and love came with your smell.

but now it's summer, and every flower is a bright shade of yellow. red, sweet berries will be taken off the branches by birds when they are perfectly ripe. i lean down to put my finger on a stem. how quickly my flower-filled youth has passed me by, and how dreary and cold this day has become. like the bowed vines, i shudder as rains shimmer with my own tears and fall.

a perfume was able to capture the nuances of my emotions and transform them into scents that i'll never be capable of throwing away. the same fragrance is still sprayed from the same bottle, but now it has an unsettling scent about it. it smells like fear— smells like fear for not wearing it as you used to. when i first smelled you, i thought i'd found the perfect perfume to compliment my soul. now, though, you're the one thing that i loathe which makes my emotions flare and my breath stop.

my heart broke apart just like the bottle of perfume i watched someone throwing it away on the ground. the perfume is not a scent; instead, it is a feeling that i had in my chest when i was looking for someone to wear with my favorite clothes. i loved that perfume, and brought it every single moment and used it as a reminder, a small tiny chime of all the bittersweet things you did. but now, it smells exactly the same as the scent that i despised the most.

he walked silently to the nook of my heart where i was most vulnerable. he ignited a candle light in a room that had been damp and gloomy. his thoughts were conveyed with a light touch. in his heart, he had nothing but love to give. his arms were a pleasant surprise. one who is not afraid to take risks. as time went on and despite my best efforts, i was becoming increasingly dwindling. my heart rate has slowed down.

i felt safe in his presence, and he shielded my emotions while strengthening his inner soul. he inspired me in my fierce battle against the knife of loneliness. his tender kiss washed over me. it was his palm that rested on my soul. in the hope of a new beginning on walkways painted in soft pastel colors scented with jasmine and marigolds, framed by the sunsets of deepest blue sky.

her softly rounded face is defined by lustrous black silky hair that is covered with white silver hair, and light wrinkles encircle rose-tinged lips and calm black eyes. clothed in a yellow flowered daster that matched the blossoming flowers around her garden she matched in perfectly. her presence, brings out blossoms.

her voice, which is soft but unwavering, has had a significant impact on my existence. when i was young, my hobbies were drawing and painting. when i went to see her, i always got excited to show her my latest masterpiece. she would compliment my amateur stick figure portraits and paintings as if i were the next van gogh while staring into my eyes thoughtfully and patting my head. after that, we would make my favorite dish for our noon meal together. the aroma of the food causes me to experience strong sensations of being hungry. her way of preparing food is delicate, much like the way she loved and cared for me.

her skin has become more wrinkled and her form has become more stooped as the years have gone by. her hair has become even more white. even i have been changed. i don't like arts as much like i did before. despite this, my adoration for my grandmother's timeless voice has not diminished through the years.

her wellbeing has been tested over the past few months by challenges that cannot be avoided. my fear stems from not knowing what will happen in the future. as we fast forward several years or months from now, will there come a point when she no longer recognizes me? or, what's even worse, her own name?

as i sit here in my memory garden of happy times, i can't help but wish i could wake up to the sound of her voice. these days, i find myself aching for her presence more than ever. that's how barren everything in my life appears right now. i hope i can tell her that i don't believe the old cliche that "time heals all wounds" since i’ve felt the same sorrow for far too long to believe that. i can't stop thinking about her, and it hurts to cry every single day. there has been a lot of change in my life, exactly how much effort should be made is beyond my grasp.

the enticing scent of her perfume has become less prominent over time. i am well aware that one of the most heartbreaking parts of moving on with life after a grief is that, as time passes, memories start to fade, such as the sound of her voice, the fragrance of her clothes, or the feeling of her arms wrapped around me. and do you know what's even more worst than that? it's the feeling of missing her voice, but at the same time it's the voice that i just couldn't seem to remember at all.

god forbid, but there's no way to deny it. juliet's family had perfected the art of chaos. it was not just a mere event, but it was their way of life.

mornings turn into a journey of walking on a maze of landmines. and family dinners were an event to behold. the white wheat of rice flew like confetti, pieces of vegetables and fruits ricocheted like bullets, and her cats were forever in fear of an imminent earthquake.
god forbid, but she couldn't just escape the relentless storm from her family. if you asked her to define what's normal, she'd probably draw you a sketch of a random line and label it "home sweet home".

juliet yearned for an escape like a sailor lost in an ocean, longing for the calming waves of the sea. each day felt like a battle against the tide of noise. she'd die for silence, for a moment to collect her thoughts without interruption. her room, once her sanctuary, had actually become a battleground of noise. her favorite songs blared through the walls, while her favorite video game conquests echoed like a distant thunder. it felt like a castaway on her own island, drowned and surrounded by a sea of hurls.

desperately seeking a haven of solitude, the constant waves that took her, leaving her like a mere shell of who she once was, part of her, hoped for a place— a place that she could call her home.

when i thought of love, my grandmother was the first person who popped into my head. there are so many moments from the past that i wish i could rewind again. throughout my childhood, my mother would typically take me to visit my grandmother when we were on summer vacations. these holidays were all about the unconditional love, the aroma of freshly cooked food that causes my mouth to water, and the joy of enjoying time with one another alongside the enticing scent of flowers dancing with the wind under the sun. and how could i ever forget the delicious chocolate chip cookies that my grandma would give me along with a steaming mug of milk when i was a kid? that could be impossible! the heavenly taste of those cookies, which i am reminded, were always prepared from scratch, is still very vivid in my mind.

her life was a rich tapestry, and love was her important thread that linked it all together. her smile and touch are like a ray of sunlight; she does everything with love, which is what makes the difference in my life and makes it worth living. when i needed someone to depend on and my eyes were welling up with tears, i had her to count on, and she would drive me away from my fears. despite all i'd done something bad, she was my brilliant sun, softly comforting me when i couldn't see the light.

as a consequence of the way that nothing in this world is permanent; everything is constantly changing. the once-clear blue sky has turned a somber gray. when she was taken by the angels from above, there were no more tales to tell. the memories of her smile, her warmth, and her love— it was all that mattered in the long run collapsed like a butterfly on the ground. when you lose someone, it feels like an attack. nothing can stop that person from disappearing in a heartbeat, no matter how hard you try to hang on. regardless of how desperately you try to hold them, they'll leave if they choose to go.

can you imagine a pain that was so buried within you? you can't conceive what it's like to feel something so deep inside. because whatever you do, you can only be wounded when they go. it is impossible to convey my misery on a plain paper using words that can be written down. the stabbing torment that extends from the soles of my feet all the way to the peak of the ceiling; that is the agony i am experiencing— the inability to think and act right.

i was lost.

every day, i'm confronted with hurdles that don't appear to melt away. i needed to be strong for the other people. i want to scream and cry but i feel like no one can see the emptiness of my soul. i kept on clinging on you to keep me sane yet thinking about us makes me feel terrible; i want to shut myself away and grieve alone. but the fact that you were beside me is what keeps me from going sane.

the memories of our time together are kept in a box. there are the butterflies i had when you were close to me, and now they are trapped in a cage of melancholy and guarded by a tear. you held my hand with such softness while we watched the sky all night. but still i sense there's something in your gaze. if you could only see, the way you tell me you love me and that we are meant to be together is gradually crushing every part of me. despite i may sometimes say or do hurtful things to you, know that i've loved you in every part of me. i put a lot of care into hoping that you are are always aware of how much your presence in my life means to me and how much of a difference it makes.

even when i am trying to protect you from getting hurt and act sanely, i still make mistakes. i want you to know how much i cherish and adore you because nothing else in my life compares to the feeling of being loved by you. saying goodbye isn't easy; there is a slew of unanswered questions. our love was pure and blissful for us at the time, and i can still remember our first kiss. everything, though, came crashing down in an instant. letting go is something i fight against with, but it's the only cure i've found for this disease—

to spare you from the pain and
to prevent the death of my heart.

a long time ago, there was a love story that became epic and lived on through the decades. it was a story that was full of happiness and undeniable magic which binds two souls together.

in the depths of our hearts, there was you and me, entwined in a love that knew no boundaries. between life's chaotic symphony, we found each other and intertwined like vines destined to flourish together. our souls swayed to a tune only they could decipher, rhythmic to a beat that drifted to the universe. the light of love shone upon our entangled fates like a constant flame.

without saying a word, your voice conveyed warmth. seeing myself reflected in your eyes was like looking into a mirror that reflected the unsaid truths of my soul. it was a love that saw the value in our differences, reveled in the richness of our souls, and took comfort in believing that our two unique paths together made for an exquisite harmony.

the more time passed, the more deeply rooted our love became, like the giant oak's roots winding into the soil. but love isn't as you imagine it to be, like a storybook with a happy ending.

the love story that was a picture-perfect sanctuary has faced unexpected obstacles. we were able to ride out the storm because our love was like a rock in the middle of the ocean, but it was like a pristine pane of glass; at first glance, it sparkled with the hope of eternity, yet as time spun its intricate web, cracks appeared, silently undermining the base we had once believed to be unshakable. the rising chorus of regret drowned out the soft songs of our love.

we go our different paths, shattered spirits looking for comfort along our own journeys. the once-joyous laughter shared is now a faint echo of memories from the past, tinged with melancholy. the narrative we built fell apart like a delicate tapestry under the pressure of unspoken words and broken promises, just as if the strands had been unraveling until it finally collapsed.

the story of you and i serves as a reminder, showing us that not all tales end with a happily ever after. our story, one which we are no longer writing together, still bears echoes of a love— a love that shaped us, molded us, and for all time will leave an enduring stamp on our souls.

after all, it's nice to know you're loved, even if it won't always last.
it’s nice to remember that once upon a time, there was also a moment when there was only you and me. in that instant we found a connection that defied the boundaries of time and space.

dear rowan,
the atmosphere was as light as a feather, and as i stared at you, i imagined that we would be the couple of the night we see in romantic movies. i have fond memories of all the great things that we used to do together, the joy that we experienced, and the underlying love and care that we had for one another. you deceive me with your gaze, and the curve of your lips entices me to come closer.

i don't want the happy memories we shared with you to be tainted by the pain that is still here. i don't want to link you in my mind with the lingering melancholy. these distracting thoughts are starting to swamp my mind. i can hear it precisely now, and it's getting deafening inside my head. when i thought about you, i was reminded of my trust. you're hurting me more with what is true than with your lies.

you captivated me by your first greeting then you shattered my heart by saying your first goodbye. i fell in love with you so deeply, but you abandoned me; could you perhaps explain why? how did we get to this point? what happened to all the times i held your hand, all the times i whispered sweet nothings in your ear, all the times i did everything i could to show you i loved you?

you got rid of my worries and made them go away, but at the same time, you got rid of my love and tore my heart out. my chest is in excruciating pain as your eyes turn away from mine, and i can see all of the love fading away from your eyes as the days go by. as you turned away, telling me that today was the day you needed to stop, my heart broke a little.

i am aware that love can be hard to come by, but losing your love would be too much for me to take. so i take a deep intake of the icy air as i sit here all by myself in the dark on a chair made of wood. the tears that i cry each and every day seem to be dripping as my mind wanders further and further away.

perhaps the most amazing part of it all was when we finally connected. the way you walked and talked, as well as those sparkling eyes, continue to infiltrate my thoughts both throughout the day and at night. darling, you light a fire in my dark soul and inspire me to put pen to paper. if, on the other hand, i start to feel wrath and grief as a result of your leaving, i ask that you not take it to heart.

rowan, the truth is, i never leave. what's more, i stayed despite of all the difficulties. never once have i considered leaving. i am worried that if i did that, it would inflict an irreparable pain, and it would make you feel like a somewhat less whole person because you might find flaws in yourself despite the fact that you are complete. leaving is the option i would choose the least if given a chance, but if it's for your personal good, i wouldn't make you stay with me even if it meant that my world would become more gray if we weren't together. i have hope that you are aware of how much i loved you and how much i treasure the fact that you exist. but at this point, you made up your decision to go because things had begun to give you a sense that they were not quite right. i am aware that wishing for your continued presence is fruitless because there is no longer any light at the end of the tunnel.

rowan, i regret the ending. the fact that we can't be an iconic hollywood couple who always gets their happily ever after in a movie. the way we couldn't part ways without hurting one another. the way we made it appear as if the time we spent together sharing our love was meaningless. i don't know what healing looks like, but getting rid of your scent on my hoodie feels like the right spot to have a good start again.

there is a young lady who, in most scenarios, exudes an air of elegance. her eyes are as brilliant as a star in the sky. she possesses the power, grace, and boldness that one would adore. she is a woman who never lets someone down and who doesn't perceive wrongdoing. her magnificence radiates within and pours outward like an adventure along a lengthy path. her dazzling smile illuminates the room as brightly as the sun breaking over the horizon, and it comes as no surprise that she is also very wise and works very hard. she is the kind of woman who would go out of her way to help someone who is struggling yet despite all of the effort she puts forth, no one ever sees her crack under the strain.
however, people will eventually become exhausted. people typically stop being the same person they were before they reached their limits since, after a certain point, they are needed to be tired. when people reach their limits, they tend to stop being the person who they were before.

...and that ended up being the case with her. that nothing, not even sleep, can solve her exhaustion, and that everything around her seemed to be pointless. she is tired of the noise of her sorrows, tired of always facing her fears, and tired of struggling with obstacles that continue to return in her life. she is worn out from squandering her days in a state of hopelessness, from having words stab her heart like sharp spears, and from leading a life that is nothing but a constant source of misery. she is dead beat of pretending that she does not care when, on the inside, she does care; she is tired of being imprisoned in unhealthy relationships and environments; she is fed up with hypocrisy and lies in a room full of fakes and shells. she is drained out from fighting against failure, putting up a show, and continuing to believe against all odds.

she's merely gotten weary of being so downcast. she genuinely wants someone to come and save her from her pain, but she can't even help herself from grief. and again, the whole world is neglecting her cries for help. now, tell me, how can she possibly be saved if the world is unable to protect her from enduring agony?

the world is such a harsh place.

...isn't it?