I noticed that people who says "I hope you're okay"
or "I hope you're doing fine"
to other people are the ones who've had it rough.
That they know how it feels like to not be okay.
That they went through somewhere dark.
That they don't want other people to go through what they did.
That they want people to be happy and not anything less than okay.
And that they really hope other people are fine.
Nonetheless, it's a lovely reminder, though.
Even though they weren't okay once, they're better now.
Life goes on and it does get better.
So I just want to say;
"I hope you're okay"

-m.b

Some people find
solace in words,
some people find
solace in music.
Some people find
solace in paintings,
but I find solace
in your voice.
You reciting stories,
slow and steady;
luring me in
with your eyes
and waving hands.
I am hopelessly
trapped in your
hypnotizing existence.

-m.b

[02/03 2:37 pm] Blue: I hate him. I keep staring at him from afar and then when I can't see him, I'll stalk his pics. Drinking in his features, scrutinizing everything, comparing to what it looks like. Always, always in my thoughts. When I'm awake, when I'm asleep. Always. I need to stop this. I haven't had a crush this bad in so long
[02/03 2:38 pm] Blue: When he's next to me I'd sneak some glances and have it etched in my memory. Like last week I noticed his long nails and how it tat-tat-tatted on the table as he waited for the page on the laptop to load
[02/03 2:40 pm] Blue: When he walks I see how he moves his arms a little. It's like he needs to keep moving and I find it fascinating cause I've always been reserved and try not to attract people's attention while he basks in them. Seems like he wants to fill in the empty spaces around him. That is something I wouldn't do intentionally
[02/03 2:42 pm] Blue: If he were a dancer I'd understand why he's so laid back, so confident with his swagger and he's used to moving a lot. It's really mesmerizing and it pains me that I couldn't get close to him. I wish I could see more of him and study his quirks
[02/03 2:44 pm] Blue: Do you see where this is going? I, a curious watcher, am filled with restless waves crashing when it comes to him but he is just the calm waters after the storm
[02/03 2:44 pm] Blue: So you can't really ship it cause it isn't good for me
[02/03 4:48 pm] Aphrodite: I, for one, do not know him enough, still. Physically, yes, he's lovely to look at. Absolute eye candy. Like how some people are to me. They're fun to poke around with and maybe flirt a little, but a serious relationship is hard with them, at least, that's what I think.
[02/03 4:49 pm] Aphrodite: I still don't know him enough to know if he's good for you and, trust me, I would want nothing but the best for you.
[02/03 4:49 pm] Aphrodite: How intriguing he is to you doesn't really faze me. I think it's adorable, and it's a fun thing to watch people gush about.
[02/03 4:51 pm] Aphrodite: He's a typical bad boy but I've seen his loyalty to his friends and his unwavering need to be with his friends. Maybe he's not too bad.
[02/03 4:51 pm] Aphrodite: You are an absolute queen and anyone you date should be on par, if not better.
[02/03 4:51 pm] Aphrodite: Bad boys are fun too.
[02/03 4:55 pm] Blue: Thank you :(
[02/03 4:55 pm] Blue: Aha I wish he'd find it (and me) adorable too
[02/03 4:56 pm] Blue: When will I ever find that person
[02/03 4:56 pm] Blue: But I'm not a bad girl? Idk
[02/03 4:57 pm] Aphrodite: Sometimes never, because you're an angel and everyone here are devils and they're never gonna be good enough for tou
[02/03 4:57 pm] Aphrodite: Bad boys don't need bad girls
[02/03 5:01 pm] Blue: Guess I'm ****** to be alone, unloved, forever
[02/03 5:02 pm] Blue: Idk but I'm probably uninteresting to him
[02/03 5:02 pm] Aphrodite: I highly doubt it won't happen, especially with the way you are and how your words pull people in and your voice breaks hearts
[02/03 5:03 pm] Aphrodite: He's nonchalant about the world
[02/03 5:04 pm] Blue: And I break a little on the inside for wanting to be a part of his world

One of the sweetest Greek gods out there;
a soul so kind and rare.
What he lacks in physical beauty,
he more than made up with talents and loyalty.
Zeus and Hera threw him down the mountain
but he's fated to be an Olympian.

Let me tell you a thing or two
about his determination and skills too.
Faithful and love you, he will.
He may not say it but he'll show it with his blacksmith skill.
Working hard day and night;
to make you a gift like Apollo's Sun, that bright.
Made out of stars, so massive you like.
He handpicks the best ones for luck.
Forged in the fire with the greatest details,
hammered with perfection, just like in the old tales.

Why must they turn away for he is ugly
when he made you weapons that made mortals flee?
O' Aphrodite, don't you run with Ares tonight.
Remember how your husband's gift locked you tight.
Hephaestus is kind and forgiving
but with his gifted hands, looks can be deceiving.

-m.b

How many masks do I have in my collection
until someone realises something is off?

How long does the party go on until
everyone goes home, strips off
and sees that not everything is
as lovely, as majestic as how
the lights, decorations and music
made it out to be?

How many more superhero costumes
are made until they save me, from me?

-m.b

Let me tell you a phenomenon I realized. Whenever he opens his mouth to speak, I pause and lean in to listen. My body seem to come together in peace, listening intently. The breeze softens to the sound of his voice, flowing with a quiet coolness. The animals pause to hear his stories, like an eager crowd. Whatever tension building up on my shoulders and neck seem to pause and heal, disappearing quietly with each word he utters, or whatever sound he hums as he stop to ponder in between conversations. It's like the universe comes to a calming pause whenever he makes a sound.

And oh, don't get me started when he sings and fiddles with the guitar or piano. With elegant fingers poised on strings or keys. Creating magical notes with a fiery passion surging from his beautiful heart to the tips of his fingers. You may think I'm exaggerating but I am always in awe of his talents. It's like his soul scoops up the emotions and dumps them carefully in music chords and intricate words. How I could just close my eyes and let his voice breathe life into me. I thank God everyday for his existence; for he is made of all things soft and beautiful.

-m.b

This is me trying to be better.
This is me trying to move on.
I'm writing a goodbye letter
to the person I was, frowned upon.
From all the scars, cuts and bruises,
fresh scented flowers will bloom.
The heartaches are my muses,
and my recovery will be a heirloom.

-m.b

I have braved storms,
I've been stepped on,
I stood next to prettier flowers,
I discovered my powers,
Yet I'm still blooming;
I'm still standing.

I will not pull out my own petals
Just to satisfy an onlooker.

My loved ones, the bees;
They looked over me.
Made sure I have sunshine
and water until I'm fine.
Pulled out my weeds
and gave me all my needs.

You see, I'm the strongest flower;
And I'm still blooming.

-m.b

In Math class we were studying linear equations. You take one of the two equations and make a third one. Take the numbers and symbols apart, see what's inside, then you find your solution by substituting one of them into the equations.

But I had other things in my mind. You're a bigger question to solve. Can I take us apart, rearrange ourselves and substitute for each other? Can we find a third equation to fit in between us to find a solution? Or would there even be an answer for us?

-m.b

You keep folding yourself in. Like origami, you turn into various art sculptures. You change so you'll remain hidden and unseen but I'm an observer. I see how with every fold, I make a mental note of it.

How spectacular; you fold to hide but to me you're an art exhibition. The more you try to stay low-key, the more awestruck I get. So how, my dear, do you think you're uninteresting, unloved, unentertaining when your very being is a field I'm studying? You're art.

-m.b

At night, when the sky is darkest,
just before the glow of dawn,
I think of you. Pitter patters
of memories, right down
to the curve of your smile,
the fluttering of lashes,
your refreshing curiosity, like a child;
reviving them before they turn to ashes.
Add daydreams to these memories.
With wishes and dreams,
love, humour and fantasies;
bursting at the seams.

What is it like, to be a part of you?
You are a godsend, a blessing.
My dear, nothing compares to you.
You are as smooth as a dark satin,
as precious as gems on a king's crown.
Oh my, more precious perhaps.
You are flowers blooming all year round,
as joyous as a baby's first few steps.
You are as eloquent as a scholar,
with looks blessed by Aphrodite,
as humorous as a jester,
and you are a star to me.

A life-long dream, manifested in a body.
Who would've thought it'd come true?
Your presence makes me
fearless, safe as being on a plateau.
I can conquer anything;
even my nightmares and insecurities.
The painful past I carry doesn't sting
as much when you're here, Achilles.
Perhaps it is a mistake
to adore you this much. But oh,
it is a risk I'm willing to take.
Especially when you give me this much hope.

I pray that one day,
our matched souls will meet
at the gates of heaven.
I will finally get to speak
these words of love I've written;
to unleash my undying thirst for you.
Maybe we'll get to dance among
the stars I've whispered to.
And we'll all shine brightly.
Our reunion will be rejoiced,
with me in your arms safely;
and close the book on our story.

-m.b

Think of a wild forest filled with every
Known flower. Sometimes you'd miss it,
But it's there. Cleverly
Hidden among loud ones. It'll hit
You like a comforting wave,
Making you feel happy,
Serene. So very safe.
Maybe it's sappy
But that's how I think
Of her. She's the softest flower.
Always on the brink
Of heaven. The magnetic power
Of lulling you with love, kindness.
She's always there, basking in her own beauty

-m.b

I remember being on my first longest flight. We took the midnight flight and I remember dozing off many times. Whenever I awake I would look out the window and see the dark sky, peppered with grey clouds, illuminated by my old friend Luna. She was next to me the whole night; a brightly glowing orb, floating for God knows how many years since her birth. At times when I wake up and feel restless that we were still flying, I'd look up to Luna and she would be there. Shining patiently and wisely. It filled me with a sense of warm serenity. Her beams of light bounced after each passing cloud, chasing my flight and I felt so at peace. That at my first long journey, I was accompanied by an old, loving friend. When everyone was asleep, I had silent conversations with Luna about my thoughts; my fears and expectations. She listened patiently until I felt content.

I felt a twinge of sadness when I woke up the next time, the dark night has transformed into a brightly lit sky. This time it was Helios in Luna's place. I've never really been close with him so I wasn't exactly sure how to feel or react. But it was the first time I met him up close, thousands of feet in the air. I never knew how beautiful it is to see Helios starting the day by waking everyone up from slumber. Helios, a brightly glowing lava spreading rays from clouds to mountains. I've always been the one thinking about days ending, I never bothered about days starting. Helios grew stronger and illuminated our journey with his jovial rays. Where Luna was silent, calming and patient, Helios was loud, energetic and eager. I am blessed that I was accompanied by the two powerful beings. My fears turned into excitement and I no longer grew afraid of long journeys. Not when I have them.

-m.b

Turtle is too slow
But it kept its own pace and
Found eternal peace

I think,
Write,
Talk
About you
A lot.
I'll smile
And blush
When I reminisce
Of our days together

-m.b

Sometimes I forget that people change. The people you've been with won't stay with you for long. I get so used to being a part of a group that when I'm back to being a singular or solitary molecule, it feels heartbreaking.

I tend to forget that people change. Like from solid to liquid to gas. Shifting forms as they grow. Blowing up, deflate, compress; changing their mentality, preferences and their whole being to suit their surroundings.

I honestly keep forgetting the part that we'll never really remain solid. We're real life forms, changing into complex, different states of matter. And sometimes when I think there are only three states, I discover that they change into a fourth one. Or more. And I can't remain the same as what I prefer or feel comfortable with.

-m.b

When you say that you miss her,
do you miss her intelligence, her humour?
What about her laughter, the sparkle
in her eye when you reach out to tickle
her during your date to the movies
and how she complains when you add anchovies
to your pizza? Do you miss that
or do you just miss bringing her to bed,
a willing body that reciprocate
to your constant inner needs?
Her whole being is a temple
for you to worship but you trampled
on her garden, leaving crushed
seeds of hope and scatters of unbloomed
dreams of being loved and adorned.
Guess you never felt guilty for leaving her torn.

-m.b

My mind is bleeding
with words. Every morning
I would puke. I'm over thinking
again. Only when I'm sleeping,
I could taste serenity. Dreaming
of things we could be. How interesting.
Then I'll wake up with my demons kicking,
I wish it'd stop obsessing.

-m.b

Breathing bodies won't hear me cry
and so I started singing to the sky;
About you. Your smile and kindness,
how are people blind from this?
The smoothness of your stalk,
the richness of your tone when you talk.
The delicate way of holding your
stick of nicotine between your fingers.
How you seem to fool everyone
that you're pernicious but there's not a bad bone
in your body, my sweet.
I don't see it when we meet.
Cause when you speak I see stars glimmering
and warm waves crashing.
The softness of the breeze
during a 5.45pm sunset, swaying trees
whispering good omens for hidden,
lost souls. You breathe in
life and exhale an aura of wisdom,
masked by lackadaisical freedom
of expression. They don't read between
the lines to unfurl your hidden dreams.
I could go on and on about you
but they don't see the real and raw side of you.

-m.b

Pink, orange, purple
Blend together nicely and
I feel somewhat calm

-m.b

There's something about your voice;
If I were a disease, I would be cured.
If I were to be deaf except for your voice;
I would jump at the chance. I'm destroyed

-m.b

The shivers that run through my body
feel like ghost fingertips running
across my skin, teasing.
It leaves multiple tiny bumps popping
and the hairs stood up on ends.

My breath caught in my throat,
I gasped as the air left my diaphragm;
only clean static remain,
pulsing in my bones.

Clean, glittering tears welled up like waves
and crashes down the smooth walls
covering my skull,
creating watered roads down hills.

-m.b

I'm listening to songs I used to
listen to before I met you.
I'm wearing a shirt that I've always
wanted, before I met you.
I'm hiding behind bangs again.
A haircut I had before I knew you exist.
I'm writing in a book that was filled
with thoughts that weren't about you.

You see, I'm trying to connect to the old me again.
The one that wasn't aware of your existence.
Back then, I wasn't so sad, so confused.
I wasn't trying to impress anyone.
I didn't think of anyone else.
I want to be her again.
To resurrect her.
Maybe she wasn't
the best then, but at least
she was better off without you.

-m.b

He was there in my dreams again. I felt it. I was so close to bringing him home. I was just about to, but then I woke up. And we're separated once again. The only place I could meet him, to be reunited, it's being pulled away from me. So many dreams and encounters; the good, the bad, I always try to bring him home but I always wake up before I even get the chance to hold on to him.

-m.b

There are two types of the word "crush-able". The first is the type that people would easily have a crush on. They got it all: the looks, intelligence, talent, humor, everything. It's hard to not fall for them the minute you lay eyes on them. You're attracted to them like a magnet. The second is the type that's easily crushed. Constantly getting hurt by the people around them, especially the ones they like or admire. They've gone through it all: getting rejected, ignored, pushed aside, not even second best, just..not a choice. Again and again and again. No surprise, I'm the latter.

I'm not the type of girl that people would crush on. I'm always the good friend. That's okay. I'll accept that. But it's always until there. That's the farthest I'll ever go with anyone. No matter how close we are, no matter how much we click; I've never been the special kind of person that they want to take to the next level. Maybe just foolishly flirting here and there, but they never take me seriously. No, I'm just their best friend.

The one who picks up the pieces when no one does, the one who sits quietly by your side when you're crying, the one who listens when you go on and on about this fantastic person you're drooling over, the one who eats with you when you don't feel like being in a large crowd cause you don't think you look your best but being with me is okay cause "Hey, you're my buddy. It's alright." Yeah I'm that girl. Always there for you, covering up your lies, tell you what's the homework you missed when you skipped class, getting text after text of "Can you do me a favor?.. Great, I owe you one. You're the best!"

It seems like I'm cursed to be everyone's friend. Again, it's not a bad thing. I just wish, for once, I'm the first type of crush-able. I wish someone would look at me like I put the stars in the sky and I make the waves crash on the sand. That I invented beauty with brains. I just wish someone would think highly of me the way I keep thinking of the people in my life. Of loving me the way I've loved my crushes before. And doing so sincerely. Not because I keep complaining, but because they genuinely love me for me.

-m.b

Sometimes when I'm alone
I'd think of you.
But you're not here,
my dear.

I remember how
gentle you'd hold
my hand.
Grab, hold, caress.
But you're not here,
my dear.

How my arms would
envelop your waist.
How perfectly it stays.
But you're not here,
my dear.

I remember how
smooth your hair
feels when I fiddle
with it.
But you're not here,
my dear.

I miss how your soft
voice pleads my name
when we don't sit
together. Oh, the lilt.
But you're not here,
my dear.

And when we hug,
I love the height difference.
How I'd bury my face
in your chest. And you'd
dig your chin on my head.
But you're not here,
my dear.

Sometimes when I recall
your little details,
I become suffocated
with your lovely scent.
But you're not here,
my dear.

I'd close my eyes and
reach out for your body.
But you're not here,
my dear.

My lovely dear,
you're now with
somebody else.
I wish you're here.

-m.b

Three summers since we first met.
On hot nights we'd rendezvous and laid
Together under the stars,
Poured out our hearts;
Long drives in our cars.

Two summers since we parted.
That was when your eyes started
To look away, darted.
I kept trying to call you
But again and again we'd argue.
It broke me to say "We're through."

One summer since I bumped into your friends.
I was anxious, I fiddled with my hands.
Truthfully, my love for you transcends
The time and distance that parted us.
They say you tried to disguise
Your pain but you still love me. That gave me a rush.

-m.b

It's only been a few days, that's true.
But I already miss you.
Your quiet stares,
you shaking off your hair.
How you'd look at me in awe
because I was singing to a song you know.
And how we shared a look for a second
when someone asked you a question
that we somehow knew
the answer to.
It's crazy how well we connect;
Except for the part where you don't like me back.
For someone who makes me incredibly happy,
you're also the reason why I'm full of misery.

-m.b

I'm that person that you would befriend
just to get close to my pretty friends,
sisters or cousins.
I'm that person who'll be there for you when
you're bored and you need to pass time.
I'm that person who you turn to rant
but once you feel better,
you disappear.

"Thank you for being
there for me.
You're a good friend," they'll
Say. Sometimes not at all.
They say I'm great to be friends with
and although I appreciate it,
sometimes it gets tiring.

I'm tired of being that person where I would
make an effort to look good
but no one would bat an eye
and think I'm pretty.
I'm tired of being that person who gets
to listen to someone I like very much,
talking about who they like.
I'm tired of being that person who listens
to people but no one listens to me when
I need someone to talk to.

Thank you for trusting me and
for appreciating me as a friend
But you're another reason why I'm wondering
what I did wrong as I stay in alone
on Saturday nights,
date-less.

-m.b

The bitter truth is that
I am not what you want.
Not your fave ice cream flavour,
not your fave flower,
not your cup of tea,
not your fave tee.
I'm not your fave song,
not your fave scent,
not your fave weather,
not your fave sweater,
just not your fave anything.
My entire being.

The ugly thing is that
you're precisely what I want.
You're my fave ice cream flavour,
my fave flower,
my cup of tea,
my fave tee.
You're my fave song,
my fave scent,
my fave weather,
my fave sweater,
my fave everything.
Your entire being.

-m.b

From the first time I saw her
I thought she was
A work of art;
A mystery

Stayed in my mind after.
As time passes
My heart;
On trajectory.

What is it about her;
That makes me want to rush
And help if she were to break apart,
Recreating a tale of an old lover's history?

-m.b

If love can get lost, then
it can be found.
If a person couldn't appreciate you,
doesn't mean someone else won't, too.
If flowers can bloom after a hurricane,
then you too, can.
Just because you're sad now,
doesn't mean you will be forever.
Everything takes time. Have faith.
Good things, they come in waves.

-m.b

"You're too young to be cynical," mum said.
"I grew up," I said.
"What happened to my happy baby?" she asked.
"She's gone," I replied.
"She's already gone," she echoed.
We left it at that.

-m.b

These lives once clung
to me;
supplying warmth and
energy.

But they've dried out
and left me cold.
So I peeled them off,
shedding skin that's old.

Cleansing, cleansing.

Determined to leave
my epidermis
smooth and new
before 2020.

-m.b

Dear fighter,
it'll get better
it'll get better
it'll get better.

Hold on just a little bit longer,
the storm won't last forever.
Remember that you're stronger
and your worries will get smaller.

-m.b

It took
All of my
Willpower
Not to grab
Your hand.

Your look
In your eye
Made me warmer;
Like a stab
Of sunshine.

-m.b

Eyes staring longingly,
Lips biting in anticipation.
Fingers caressing lovingly,
Soft music playing in retention.

Hushed whispers and smirks,
Hands raking through hair.
Tension so high, could be sliced with dirks.
Strips off everything, souls are bare.

Heads twisting on pillows,
Like melting opals, staining sheets.
Gasps, tremors, coos and moans.
Raining sweet kisses on petal-soft skin pleats.

-m.b

If you love someone,
don't hesitate to tell them.
It could be anyone;
your mother, father, friend.
You could be the only one
to remind them
that they're important.

People wear masks, usually.
You don't know what they're feeling.
They may seem friendly
but God knows what they're going
through. They might be really unhappy.
They're probably waiting
for someone to recognise their worth.

Indeed, time is precious;
it slips by like sand through your fingers.
Maybe the warm body next to you today
could be ice cold in a casket tomorrow.
So if you care about someone,
please, please tell them.
An act of kindness could help so much.

-m.b