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11.3k · Jun 2014
- Jun 2014
the sky is confused
the clouds are a blend
of orange and red
yellow and violets
what a moody creation

the sky can no longer hold it, i guess
lightning strikes everywhere
and thunder trembles here and there
the sky is crying

the sky is calm
but it looks heavy
like the calm after a tantrum
and there are no stars
the sky is sad
5.0k · May 2016
- May 2016
,       ,        ,
,     ,       ,        ,      ,
,         ,        ,
,       ,         ,          ,
,         ,       ,
,      ,

Be like raindrops
Never be afraid
of falling
,      ,       ,
,      ,      ,      ,
,     ,     ,
,    ,
Excerpt from a famous saying of an unknown author
3.2k · Jun 2014
- Jun 2014
like the sea to the shore
embrace me

like waves to a surfer
dance with me

like tsunamis to the crust
crave for me

like rivers to waterfalls
save me

like typhoons to the wind
breathe me in

like a raindrop to the ocean
*come home
1.9k · Nov 2014
- Nov 2014
too much of it means you're not living
too little, and it means the same thing
1.8k · Jun 2018
- Jun 2018
I hope we are all
more than who we
thought we  are
1.5k · Oct 2014
She's a painter
- Oct 2014
She paints smiles on people's faces
But she can't paint one for herself

Day by day, she tries
Everyday, she fails

Until she came up with an idea
of painting her last canvas
She wants it to be memorable
and so she did it

Not with a brush, but with a razor
Not on a paper, but on her wrist
And the colors were not pastels
nor watercolors, but it was red.
It was blood.
And it spilled
Til it was too much.

True enough, her masterpiece
was remembered
It was seen as a symbol of sin by some,
some say it's simply tragic
some try to understand
--and for her that's art--
Something that tells a story
sad and beautiful at the same time

*The painter wanted to be a masterpiece
And so
she became one
1.5k · Jun 2014
Six Word Story I
- Jun 2014

*r e a d
1.4k · Aug 2017
- Aug 2017
I guess this heart
is a parking lot

Sometimes full,
often empty
1.3k · May 2016
- May 2016
You never really lose people
parts of them always stay with you

And it's both beautiful and sad to think
that we are all composed of pieces
from the people who broke us

and by which we are complete
1.3k · Aug 2017
Fountain (Pen) of Youth
- Aug 2017
paper and ink
that's all it takes
for someone
to be immortalized
1.2k · Jun 2014
Six Word Story III
1.2k · Jun 2014
Ruined Canvas
- Jun 2014
I'm a plain white canvas
waiting to be filled
with lovely colors

day by day
I try hard
to fill myself up
with smooth textures
and gorgeous gradients

and then you came by
spilling and splashing
splattering black ink
all over the beautiful painting

and now no matter how hard
I try to cover it up
that cannot change the fact
that the canvas, nay, I
*was already ruined
- Jun 2018
it's either you hurt the people who are closest to you,
or they hurt you

but the funny part is
most of the time
you just hurt yourself
1.1k · Apr 2016
Six Word Story X
- Apr 2016
I felt,

You did not
1.0k · Nov 2014
- Nov 2014
my body's tired from doing tasks that I have no passion for
my eyelids are getting heavier by the minute,
like no amount of coffee can ever keep me awake
i am drained;
the kind of exhaustion that neither sleep nor food can ever cure

my teachers say they're preparing us for something bigger
i worry about my sleep debts but i worry more about passing
i just hope that the "bigger thing" is worth more than my health

yet here i am writing this poem that has nothing to do with the things i am required to pass
but at least it has no format,
it has no rules;
& more importantly,  i have no one to please

for my professors this poem is a waste of time
for them, this poem doesn't matter
but it does
it does to *me
1.0k · Jul 2014
To Die A Thousand Times
- Jul 2014
They say we die a thousand times before our hearts stop beating
I agree

One is the sigh of a person giving up on you
Another is the grasp of a loved one fading away
When you walk away and no one calls your name
You die again when you hear the goodbye of a person
you thought would stay
You die the minute you realized you wasted your life
on someone or something that isn't even going to happen
When someone you thought cares forgets your birthday,
You die a little bit but live on anyway
You die when someone you knew so well becomes a stranger
& when someone you love doesn't even bother to know you
You die when you feel you're never good enough
You die again when there's no hope
after all that's said and all that's done
You die every time someone leaves
and when someone dies, you die with them

You die a thousand times before your heart stops
And even after that, when one by one people start to forget you,
**you die again
- May 2018
And here we are,
surrounded by too many poems;
already too familiar
with what it's like to be a poet
that had his heart broken...

tell me,
I wanna know..
*what it's like to be a poet who has already been healed?
974 · Jul 2014
- Jul 2014
Why do we keep breaking
those who are already
959 · Aug 2014
- Aug 2014
most of the time
we have to be
our own

because everyone else
is busy saving
their own
947 · Sep 2014
- Sep 2014
my heart &
my mind
are in some place
my body
is **not
930 · Dec 2016
- Dec 2016
Machu Picchu, Stonehenge, The Colloseum
These are all built in ruins
All beautiful pieces
All fascinating

Hence don't ask me
Why I look at you
Like a piece of art

Darling, don't hide
Brokenness is beautiful
*You are fascinating
Hi if youre reading this here's a hug!!!
896 · Apr 2016
End Game
- Apr 2016
whatever we think we have
is destructive

they say opposites attract
but what they don't say is
damage seeks out damage

we both know this is temporary
we'll never gonna choose each other

we are asymptotes
staying close to each other;
would never gonna cross the line
or would we?

maybe we're perpendicular lines
we'd cross the line
but that's it
or is it?

maybe we're each other's point b
each other's end point
but i doubt that

I think I know what we are
We are black splats
or stains hiding
in each other's blind spots

we see each other
when we want to

hide each other
when we want to

and I am tired
of being your temporary cure
because healing you
is like alcohol
it kills me but gets me addicted
makes me miserable yet happy
healing you is like being offered
space cakes
no matter how hard i try
to convince everyone it's harmless, it destroys
it builds me up
then lets me down
makes me feel everything then nothing at all

i don't know how it happened
all of a sudden then all at once

we both know this won't last
please erase me
wash the stain
open both your eyes
let go

whatever we think we have
let it die


let This die
but dont forget

we'll stay close
enough to keep each other warm
but not too much to let each other burn
887 · Oct 2016
The Juggler
- Oct 2016
You'll see her in streets, she's a juggler. She juggles three ***** each day of her life. These ***** are called Love, Work, and Family. Love is made of glass, Work is made of plastic, Family is made of rubber. Before we continue with the story, you need to remember these rules: 1. Not everyone you meet is a juggler, but everyone carries with them a weight and they come in various forms 2. These ***** need to be juggled 18 hours a day throughout her life 3. Love is never irreplaceable, Work is made of plastic and is at times temporary, you can replace it any time you want; and Family, it is the sturdiest ball. Though these ***** should be equal in sizes, there are times when Love seems to be the heaviest. That being said, the juggler always pays more attention to that ****** little red ball thinking that if she can manage to juggle that everyday, she'll get through; and she does. Always.

One day, the juggler bumped into a stranger. This stranger wears a blue suit. He's charming, he looks like a character from a book the juggler has read before - the one with that faraway star and pixie dusts. His eyes shine, but they look empty. He carries with him a pen, but it doesn't seem like he knows it's there yet. Unlike the girl, this stranger doesn't have any ***** to juggle but he carries with him three books atop his head. These books are thick, looks old, seem like they've never been opened for so long. The juggler apologizes but the stranger was too in a hurry, he just gave her a quick glance and continued walking.

Curious, the juggler's eyes followed the stranger's path while still walking forward; and to her fear she missed to catch that fragile glass ball. She tried picking it up while still juggling the other two, she gasps the moment she sees that the glass ball cracked. This is the fourth time it happened. At that moment she already knew that if it happens again, she's *******.

She tries to focus, but every time she juggles the crack gets deeper and pieces of the ball portrude her skin. To forget the pain, the juggler focused on the two other *****, she chose the lighter one, Work. She likes this ball, and she's starting to think this may just be her favorite. Forgetting the glass ball, she began thinking of new juggling tricks, and one of the trick involves throwing two ***** mid-air at the same time. As the juggler throws the *****, she remembers she has forgotten something.. but it was too late. The broken glass ball pierced through the plastic ball. She created an even bigger problem for herself. Her favorite ball continously deflates as she juggles. She sighs and thinks to herself, "I always break the ones I love."

She tried stepping back, took a break from juggling. Unconsciously trying to punish herself, she went to a coffee shop even if caffeine is bad for her. The barista shouts her name and she stands to get her order. Reaching out to the cup of coffee she felt another hand - again, it was the stranger. But this time the stranger is not a stranger anymore. He's already someone familiar. Someone she thinks would last. She thinks.

They got close. The juggler came to a point where the broken ***** don't bother her anymore. She was distracted, and at that time it felt like a good kind of distraction. She pointed the pen to the guy and told him, "Do you write? Did you write those books?" she then looks atop his head. The guy shook his head and replied, "These books have been there as long as I can remember." The juggler got his pen, a table napkin and writes,"Share the books with me, we'll write your story." It took a while, the guy got his pen back, and somehow, no matter how afraid he was, he agreed.

He should not have listened. The juggler doesn't know what she was doing. Why would someone listen to a girl who can't even fix her own self?
But there's something between her and that guy that made everything seem okay.

They met outside a coffee shop. The guy bought the juggler a Cappuccino frappe, as she took a sip she realized that everything she felt with this stranger is like sipping thru a cup of frappe - refreshing, escaping, and bad for her. They got their pens out, bought a new book and wrote their hearts out.

Until one day, the juggler realized she was too caught up with this guy she totally forgot about juggling. She panicked,looked at her things to see if she still has them..then she found all of them - broken. What she didn't realize was that all of the ***** need work to function well.

This is where she got up, talked to the one who gave her the ***** and plead for one more chance. She was told,"Everything can be fixed, except for those that are thrown away."

The next day, the juggler got all the broken pieces back and decided to create her own ball. She started with the glass ball, blood in her hands, she tried to glue whatever's left. Next was the plastic ball, she covered the glass ball with the plastic material to protect it. Lastly, the sturdiest material was the one covering the whole ball. At the end of the day, she only had one ball left which she called Life. Funny, this large ball is sturdier than all three ***** combined. This ball was made whole by wreckage.

Later that night, she met up with the guy to apologize. She knew he was perfectly fine before she showed up. She leans, kissed the guy on his cheek and bids good bye. As she steps back she noticed... the guy is now holding the pen, but instead of having three books atop his head, he now has four. One unfinished, three unopened..
I wonder what happened to the guy. I hope he figures things out. ***** to know I haven't completely known him..

(This is by far, the longest piece I've ever written. This was made type-and-publish, haven't proofread)
873 · May 2017
- May 2017
You are my ghost, you've been with me as long as I can remember. But unlike any other monsters, I'm afraid that one day I'd no longer see you.
862 · May 2016
- May 2016
I've been scribbling words about you, I haven't looked at the clock til now - it's 17 minutes past 7. I may be late for work.

I have written several nonsense letters, wondering if I already wasted more ink than I should, thinking how many of these words have you already heard, and doubting if they would mean something more once you read them.

These words, these are the things I want you to know but would never tell you.

But these words, they don't really matter, do they? These words can't make you stay, or flinch even.

Because the things you told me that matter, they didn't. And even if they did, we won't do anything about it.

These letters, they would remain unsent.
824 · Jan 2017
- Jan 2017
A lot of people told me
When you passed away
That I may have lost one good soul
But the sky gained another angel

I promised you before you took your last breath, I will look for you
I will make you fall in love with me again, whatever it takes
I will not get tired

But I am getting tired,

"How high do I  have to be before I can say I already am in the sky?"
"How far do I have to reach before I can say that I am already touching a cloud and not just mere water and air?"
"How high is the sky?"
"How far do I have to fly before I meet you again?"

*And as I take my last breath, I knew, the sky is not too far
814 · Jul 2014
Baggy sweater
- Jul 2014
I don't know whether you really left a scent
Or I just remember your smell
But it sure smells like you
Or it sure smells like memories

I wore this tonight because it's cold
I remember how your hugs gave me warmth
Now all I got are chills
And this sweater that doesn't even fit

I wore it a couple of times before
I wore it one Friday night
It reminded me of how we used to go out on movies
and eat whatever we like,
but mostly candies and chocolates
and cold coffee and ice cream

I wore it one hot afternoon
Weird, I know
Maybe I just want to feel you
or I just want to remember how it felt
I miss being cuddled
But being near to a piece
of clothing that once was yours
is the closest and only thing I got
Better than none, I guess

I wore it on our anniversary
It was sure a heck better if I celebrated it with you
But nope, all I got were mementos
and high hopes, and this sweater
along with other things that don't fit
your shirts - too big for my frame
my thoughts - too messy for my brain
memories - too overwhelming for my heart

**Funny how I treasure
the things that don't fit
I miss you.
801 · Jan 2017
- Jan 2017
That line you see where the sky and the sea meets is the exact same line that separates them

I am the sea
You are the sky
Love is our horizon
787 · Jan 2017
- Jan 2017
You gave me life
Only to **** me again

I guess death is not the lack of life; it's living for someone else's eyes
only to find out they weren't looking
773 · Nov 2015
- Nov 2015
I emptied myself
to complete you
And in return
You poured it all
to someone else
759 · Jan 2017
- Jan 2017
If parallel universes are true
I will find the one
where I'll end up with you
759 · Sep 2014
- Sep 2014
She saw your best
in all your worsts
744 · Dec 2016
Lightning & Thunder
- Dec 2016
She was the lightning
elusive and too fast

and he was the thunder
who keeps on chasing after her
never really getting tired
no matter how many times
he misses

who knows?
maybe one day
when he's a bit faster
and she's a bit closer
and the wind and the heat
the electrons and the charges
all agree,
they will meet
they will dance
and all the earth will hear them shout

*because after all
thunder is alive
only because there's
738 · Apr 2016
Pen, Paper, Period
- Apr 2016
I will keep on writing
until I run out of words
until I run out of thoughts
I will keep on writing
until I can no longer
write your name
I will keep on writing
until I can forget
like how you did
or like what you're doing

I will keep on writing
until I can no longer feel
whatever it is you made me feel
I will keep on writing
until I can no longer read
the words you have written
that I've assumed
are for me

I will keep on writing
I will write you away
I will write the pain away

I will keep on writing
until my heart accepts
until these what ifs stop
until these maybes disappear

I will keep on writing
until I can no longer write
about you
about us
about how much
about how late
about how
about what
about when
about why

I will keep on writing
until I can finally put the period
that would end everything

I will keep on writing
until I stop
and when I do stop
you'll know
that even though it was so hard for me
I no longer, nor will ever
write again for you

So here it is
736 · Oct 2016
- Oct 2016
there are four stages of healing wounds
1. your red blood cells will form a blood clot to stop the bleeding; then your wound would be swollen
2. white blood cells capture and fight rogue bacteria
3. fibroblast cells would enter, drop collagen and form connective tissues again
4. your skin will connect and contract and be out much stronger than before

but among all wounds, a broken heart is the hardest to heal
1. your heart will not be swollen, it would be numb, and there will be days when you don't even know if you still have it. it would be a black hole for quite some time, it will **** anything and everything you used to love and leave you with nothing
2. you won't have the capability to fight rogue bacteria if anything you may actually succumb yourself with it; sometimes you may even let it control you until you forget that you own yourself
3. and then when it hits you, you will feel everything again all at once - the pain of lost love, melancholy, longing. you will realize how much you have loved and how much you have lost. now what you do is you bounce back, but how?
4. at this stage you must already be stronger than what you used to be, but for broken hearts, this may take a while, or it may take bottles and a lot more bottles of alcohol, or it may need a quiet moment for you to think straight, some just let time heal it. but the good thing is, healing a broken heart is actually a choice.
yet unlike all other wounds, it can be fixed in two ways
1. you seek for someone who can hold your hand while you fix yourself
2. you fix yourself alone

*you chose the first one, I'm choosing number two
735 · Jun 2014
- Jun 2014
I just want to mean
the same thing
as you mean to me

but I guess
I'm just a dead star
in your cosmos

while you are
the universe to me
735 · Jun 2014
- Jun 2014
I look for you in everyone
Nay, I see you in everything

I see you in every empty seat
I see you in blur every time I blink
And even when I close my eyes,
I still see you

You're the ghost inside my head
And no matter how fast I run,
I can't save myself
735 · Dec 2016
- Dec 2016
Like the shadow stringed to Peter Pan's shoes, he is always there for her

Like the Piped Piper who saved the people of Hamelin from the plague, he keeps her safe

Like Miguel leaving El Dorado's gold for more adventures with Tulio, he always chooses her

Like Pacha who took care of Emperor Kuzco as a llama, he provides her needs

Yet like Lightning McQueen and Mater, Buzz and Woody, Dory and Marlin, Mike and Sully, they will always remain friends.
731 · Jun 2014
Read in bold
- Jun 2014
I’m trying to act cold
because I wanna feel numb
but inside I’m burning
with love, with madness
for you

I’m trying to push you away
because I don’t wanna be the girl
you walked away from
but my heart misses yours
you know I wanna hug you

I’m trying to look tough
because I am too tired of feeling weak
but inside my chest is a black hole
******* up everything I need
but not you

I'm trying to forget,
but I can't
if only willingness is enough
but it isn't
724 · Jun 2014
Six Word Story IV
714 · Oct 2016
- Oct 2016
I thought about it
on and on
and on
and on
and on
and again
Til I realized
I am my own
before I am anyone else's
I am free
But I am scared
of being too free

Too much liberty
Can cage me
712 · Dec 2016
Lead Character
- Dec 2016
you've read about her in books
she's the kind of girl who likes saving the world, the kind of girl who has too little but gives too much

*she's not the protagonist
712 · Apr 2015
Six Word Story VIII
- Apr 2015
You're my home
Now I'm **homesick
699 · Jan 2017
Relativity of Truth
- Jan 2017
Ask her
and you'll know
her version of the story

Ask him
and you'll hear
his side of the story

If you wanna know what truly happened, *who should you ask?
692 · Aug 2015
Lost in You
- Aug 2015
I wanna be the wanderer lost in your body*

I'll treat the lines of your hands as road maps;
your fingerprints as busy intersections

I wanna get lost in every corner of your body
exploring ‘til I see darkness and cobwebs on the insides of your ribcage

I wanna see every broken piece of your heart;
and mend them together, one by one, slowly and surely

I wanna get lost in your mind and hear your every thought
Your opinions, your dreams, your frustrations, and your sweet pillow talk
(I bet they’ll all be fascinating and depressing at the same time)

I’ll stay at the corners of your mouth
Your lips will be my pillow and bed, your words will be my bedtime stories

I wanna memorize your scars, and examine them
I’ll figure out everything behind every mark,
and know how they made you stronger

Your clavicle will be my resting place
after I travel through your veins

I’ll spend a week looking in your eyes, determining whether they’re black or a hue of dark hazelnut

I will travel along the lines of your face,
and observe how these lines wiggle as you smile, or frown, or cry

I’ll climb to the bridge of your nose,
and be amazed to see everything clearly

I’ll drop by your liver
and comfort it every time you gulp a six pack beer

I’ll pass by your lungs
and clean it after you finish a pack of cigars

I’ll protect you
I’ll accept everything that you are

It will take me forever to know every tiny detail of your body,
but I’m gonna love it
I am sure
because *I don't mind getting lost
as long as it's in you
688 · Jan 2017
On Love -
- Jan 2017
I hope you find the love you deserve -
The kind of love that makes every atom in your body feel adored, the kind of love that makes life worth living, the kind of love that greets you good morning and always awake; and kisses you good night but never sleeps, the kind of love that makes you enjoy the rain and dance under the stars never worrying about catching a cold because this kind of love also provides you warmth. I hope you find love, and if it's taking too long... I hope it finds you.
678 · Feb 2017
- Feb 2017
You told me I'd never be able to touch the sky
But at the back of my mind I always knew
that holding you and touching the heavens
are the same thing
653 · Aug 2014
Six Word Story VII
653 · Sep 2016
- Sep 2016
Hope but do not expect
Love but do not demand

Move, but do it forward
Visit yesterday, but do not stay

Walk away from the people
who let you go away

*..then don't look back.
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