1) Why is it that every time i try to leave my body are also the times you emphasize the little things that don't really matter to me?

It'll be days where I'll hear you whisper to me things like:
"No one's gonna call or text you."
"Your wallet is nothing more than a hollow shell of an accessory that makes you feel like an adult."
"Everything you have right now will mean nothing to anyone because the successes you've had were meaningless to begin with."

2) Why are you such a hypocrite?

You've always reminded me that I have friends that look out for me but days later, you take it back and tell me that no one loves me.

You've always reminded me to keep my phone and wallet at the pockets of my pants because it's more worthy than myself yet days later, you tell me these are my most useless possessions

You've always reminded me to study hard and challenge myself everyday yet this whole time you remind me that once I disappear, so will everything I worked for.

3) Do you want me to go or do you want me to stay?

I can sense you're helpless without me. You always want me to help you find your phone or your wallet because no one else will. You want me to help you become literate for the sake of just being literate.

But from all the help that I do, all I get are your sadistic paybacks. You torment me in ways that I feel manipulated, helpless, and weak.

4) You're so powerful yet why do you need me?

You can just pick up that ringing phone with 3 notifications from my friends asking me "What's wrong?".

You can just read that book about theories all by yourself.

You can get the paper on your wallet that has "Do not cut yourself" written in it.

You can do anything without me. yet...

5) Why do you always remind me that things will get better but as I get older, it only gets worse?

i never wanted to ask about the omnipotence of god
and yet i did
i never wanted to ask if my body is just a manifestation of ones and zeros
and yet i did
i never wanted to ask the possibility of life beyond us humans and animals
and yet i did
i never wanted to ask the very existence of each and every one of us
and yet i did

i never wanted to get the existential dread
nor did i want to get its manifestation in my head
i never wanted to have the disorder that i have
but yet
i did

and i knew that
from the moment i saw god himself
like a reflection from a mirror
looking straight into my eyes
he told me
"you had to do it
because someone has to"

you don't need to blame yourself anymore.
you don't need to chastise yourself anymore.
you don't need to look at the mirror every night and constantly hurt yourself anymore.

because i know that the biggest bully you've always had was a friend who has stabbed you in the back
and you didn't know that it hurts until someone told you that you were bleeding.

the doctor said the injury was a minor one
but he wouldn't know that
because you never told him how the pain feels
neither do your friends
nor your family
because i know you had a habit of lying just to prevent another funeral.

and now, the waves are crashing near the seams.
the sounds they make, they manifest the sins from our gods
but you play deaf still
because you don't know what all of this means.
and so you kept this habit of silence for years
...and years
...and years
until finally you realize, the only person you can't confront was yourself.

i know you have a savior complex,
which is why you try to be everyone's friend;
but even the greatest of heroes still rest and sleep
until they get the soft comfort of a cramp casket

i need you to feel better
i need you to heal
i need you to change so i don't have to take care of you.

i need you to not be afraid of vomiting when you speak.
i need you to realize the only stomachache you should fear of is one from guilt.
because i know that it hurts every time in the night before school.

i see you every time i sleep;
tossing and turning yourself every time you see his face
and the many others that have taunted you.
so, i beg of you to take your medicine
as the world is full of chaos;
greed, lust, gluttony,
they roam the alleyways and streets you walk of
and they will get you when the time comes
when you befriend such fools like fear,

the waves will get bigger
and the wound won't close unless you change
but still, i know you won't listen
because i know you are always stubborn.

but i'll forgive you.
because i know you are still a child.
you didn't need to be scolded
you needed to be held,
to be loved and cared for.

i'll take care of you.

i'll be the cliff you run to when the tides come
and the cliff you jump off from when you want to risk it.

i'll be your medicine,
your soft bed,
your doctor,
and the one who will always accept you for who you are.

you're still confused as to why i'm saying this,
but trust me when i say,
"it'll make sense when you're older."

i love you.

She was everything I ever wanted.
Her euphoria as contagious as the common flu
Her warm and cozy feeling like a hug you give to your stuffed teddy bear
Her laughter as colorful as a Monet painting
Her tender hands just like a fawn
She was everything my brain desired to have

Immediately I wanted her all the time
Every Second
Every Minute
Every Hour
Every time the hand on the clock moves
She was all I ever desir—

Wait…
I forgot something
Let me start over.

I have ADHD
… at least I think I do
Look for me in the classroom staring off the window
Because I was either suddenly interested in the conversation between two passers-by about their finals
Or perhaps a baby bird flew by the window sill
Look for me at my own home frantically flipping off
Because for the one hundred and twenty-seventh time, I’ve lost my own phone
Sit beside me? Sure! Why not?
IMeanIt’sNotLikeI’mCompletelyQuietButI’mReallyAFunPersonToBe­WithBecauseIHaveSoMuchStori—
Sorry about that…
But… give me a task and I’ll be eager to do it
But in a count of three, I’ll magically fall asleep within the couch because…

What did you told me again?

Anyways...
Do you still remember that day?
The one at our science laboratory?
I met you.
You still had braces on
I saw it peeking when you smiled at me as I told a joke to you
You still had long straight hair back then
You were the typical school nerd
But I never told you that because I didn’t want that smiling face to fade

And to think… your face was one of the things I focused on
Our first meeting was something I somehow remembered
And to think you made me go silent for a while
Every day, I was a busy ocean
I would often have big and small waves dancing around my head
But the moment I saw your face
I was the quietest stream…

You were everything I ever wanted
You had everything I have always daydreamed about
You became the reason I give a great amount of eye contact when striking a conversation
You became the reason I spoke less words than I did back then
You made me not forget about the assignments we had because we’d do it together.
You made me not get distracted by the tick of the clo—

The clock.
The ticking clock.
The clock that dictates the time.
Time.
Time we have left together like this.
Suddenly, everything was about us for me.
I didn’t know how I can keep you to myself

I wrote you letters
I sang songs that reminded me of you
I followed you wherever you went
I tried to make up for the lost time we’ll have

And I’m sorry.
I got everything in my head.
Stupid impulses.

I wanted to change for you.
To stop my disorder for you
I stopped listening to my classes just thinking of you
I forgot about the pieces of paperwork
I get distracted by the clock.

And suddenly I went back to staring at clouds out the window again
Just like you.
You went away with them.

Our times spent.
The laughter we shared.
And the three words I wanted to tell you.

What were those again?
Sorry, I could be forgetful sometimes too.

i don't envy the drunkard with the alcohol he has had
nor do i envy the man who had the finest of cigars in his hands

i don't envy the rich man for the money he gains
as much as i don't envy the couples living in maine.

i don't want a lover, or be sustained by money and vices
i just wish to live in happiness, with something that suffices

it may take me a hundred guys

and a hundred girls

for me to digest

that happiness is a sexuality

palaging bilin sa akin ni itay kahit pa bata ako, "huwag kang pupunta sa lamay na may sugat." ngunit, hanggang ngayon pa naman, makulit pa rin ako. bawat lamay, ako ang taga-aruga sa umiiyak, taga-bigay ng biskit at dyus sa mga bisita, taga-lampaso ng sahig sa tabi ng kabaong.

sa gitna ng lahat, yakap pa rin ako ng aking itay. kahit sa gitna ng pagod, kinakaya ko pa rin ang gumaya sa mga yapak niya. subalit, araw-araw ko na lang nilalampaso sarili kong paa; paa na puno ng laslas, pasa, at mga iba't-ibang mga butas na hindi ko na rin matandaan.

sa kahit anong mangyari, dala-dala ko ang mga sugat na ito. ito ang aking sumpa; na araw-araw kong paglalamayan ang bawat pagkakaibigang nawala, mga irog na sinaktan at nasaktan, mga bawat away sa pamilya, at tuluyang hindi ako aalis sa kapilya kahit mawala pa ang aking dugo.

alam ko sa sarili ko na makulit ako. hangga't may ihihinga pa ako, dadalhin ko ang mga sugat ko sa bawat lamay na hindi pa nililibing hanggang ngayon. pinili ko ang mag-lingkod at maging mabuti. *kahit akin itong ikamamatay pa

Hihintayin pa ba natin
Na ang langit ay matakpan ng mga kulay abo na alapaap
Na pinaghalong mga usok ng bomba
At mga ulap na nagdadala ng mabigat na bagyo?

Hihitayin pa ba natin
Na mawala ang buhay ng isang inosenteng sibilyan
Sa ngalan ng isang lalake sa kataas-taasan ng kalawakan
Na hindi naman natin tiyak kung tayo ba’y binabantayan pa?

Hihintayin pa ba natin
Ang pag-hiyaw ng milyong-milyong mga mamayanan
Ang hiyaw na nagdadala ng kanilang takot
Na tila ba’y parang kampana ng simbahan
Pinipilit tayong tumayo at bumangon na

Hihitayin pa ba natin
Ang pagmamakaawa ng isang burgis na artista
Na ang tingin lang sa atin ay mga tseke at barya?

Hihintayin pa ba natin
Ang pag-tahimik sa atin ng mga lalakeng naka-itim
Sumisigaw at nananakot
Sa ngalan ng maitim na propaganda?

O hihintayin na lang natin
Na gawing tayong manhid
Sa bilang ng tatlo
Habang tayo’y tinututukan ng kailbre kwarenta y kwatro?

and just like the young and foolish icarus
we, too, had the confidence
of the wings that gives us flight
and we, too, have soared the same sky as he did
and failed to reach our ******
for the sun, with its radiance
burneth the wings we have made for us
and plummet us into an ocean
the never-ending abyss of blue
and the inevitable void

i've grown accustomed to having no one in my room.
i've learned to love the shade of my curtains.
mom gave them to me since i kept waking up earlier than when i should have
and that my eyes adjusts hastily on the light that felt
burning, heating, loathing.

what a span of three years does to a man.
but a force in my subconscious drove my hands and feet
i finally tied my curtains.

i let the dust settle in
like an unwanted foreign aunt on vacation
but i was taught to be hospitable.
the despicable sunlight seeped in fastly
and there was this hug that i felt

like my mom the week before chemotherapy
she always said it felt as if
her mother was looking over.
a guiding hand, she feels.

maybe this is what i was missing in my mornings.

so, i welcomed it.
i'm glad i tied my curtains today.

sa oras na sa kasiyahan ay gipit
hahawakan ang pluma
na ang kapit
ay mas mahigpit sa bigti

pula.
kulay ng galit.
kulay rin ng determinasyon.
kulay ng mga gigil sa hinanakit
ng kataasan-taasan
kulay ng mga may pasyon
sa pagbabago sa lupang tinubuan
kulay ng galit sa opresyon
sa mga mala-pasistang maylupa
kulay ng tunay na lumalaban
para sa bayan

ngunit isang hipokrasiya
para sa bansang ayaw sa pula
ay tintado ng pula
ang mga tigang na lupa at kalsada
tintado ng pula
ang dalawang watawat na sinasamba
tintado ng pula
ang ibinotong buwaya sa kongreo
tintado ng pula
ang pag-urong natin sa progreso

maybe people are right
when they said
"i would look pretty
when i smile"

but for now
i am happy being ugly
till the day
these perverts die

ang sansinukob ay dinala na tayo sa isa't isa
ang tadhana sadya'y mapaglaro
pero hahayaan ba natin na ang ambon na dala nito'y
hihinto sa ating dalawa?

bilang na ang mga dahon sa puno
ang bawat butil ng buhangin
ang mga natitirang oras, aking irog

ano pa ba ang hinihintay natin
ang muling paglapit sa atin ng sansinukob
o ang pag-ubos ng pasensya ng oras
at nang sa ganon ay nawala na?

o sadyang inaaliw na lang natin ang isa't-isa
sa kalungkutang ating isiniksik sa ating mga kokote
at ipinipilit na isantabi na lamang
ang magiging kwento nating dalawa

sa umaga, sa akin ay anino ka lamang
na sa pagsapit ng kadiliman
ika'y mawawala
ngunit sa gabi, sa akin ika'y nagiging hangin
sisinbol ng malambing
at hahaplos sa aking balat

tunay nga na may mahika ang isang tulad mo
isang matipuno at matalinong nilalang
na kahit sa mga oras na walang pagkikita
ang iyong palad aking nararamdaman
sa aking balat na tila sa'yo'y isang libro
na iyong walang tigil na pagmasdan
at hindi titigilan ang paghanga

sadya nga napa-irog mo ako,
isang binata na iyo'y napasinto-sinto
na kahit wala ka sa tabi ko
napukaw mo ang damdamin ko.

pakakawalan ko ang bughaw na langit
para sa maulap na langit
na puno ng usok

mula sa sunog
ng bawat sulo
bawat nag-iinit na kamao
bawat ng alab ng puso

kung ang kahihitnatnan ito
ay kalayaan

you are the eighth cigarette from my pack of marlboro lights i lit at 10:34pm
you are the fifth shot of whiskey i drink at a saturday night, alone
you are the chest and liver pains i no longer feel the sunday after
you are my metaphor for stockholm syndrome

you are the reason that i know how to type properly at midnight as the world around me spins ever-so fast
you are the reason why i mastered the art of scrolling through instagram without liking your post from six months ago
you are the reason every episode i had becomes less painful than before
you are the reason i no longer feel any pain from before
because i know you still keep me captive in you

it may be the mild psychosis caused by the eighth whiskey last weekend talking but i know you
you always come back for me
you always know how to keep me wanting more
you know just how to lure me back
even if you don't do anything
i keep running back to you

but now, as i puff the last cigarette and drink the remaining drops from my bottle of whiskey
i realize now that you are my stockholm syndrome

the myth tells a story of an unnamed angel
whose wings were shaped from elegance and luxury
with feathers as soft as a cumulus cloud
and accomplishes a graceful and majestic flight

her beauty was often compared to a goddess
for her beauty radiates both from the inside and the outside
her skin was as white as snow
ever so flawless; no blemishes can be found

a vast amount of men came as suitors
with offerings of meat, songs, and wealth
but only one succeeded
a mighty man from the outskirts
whose physique were as of a god
with charisma that stabs like a knife
and a promise of a beautiful life was all he carried

and with a soliloquy, he made her his wife
and onto the outskirts they lived

though the angel was a beauty,
her love story was not

the man grew old and tired of their love
he wanted someone new
so he made a woman out of her.

he tore off her wings with his muscular hands
with varicose veins visible even at glance
he made love to her like it was the first time
but no love was made on the kisses and touches he gave

her beauty was never seen
she became the woman he wanted
she was no longer the angel anyone adored

she hid her wings on cloths of color and lived off as his wife
no longer carrying the title of an angel
her beauty no longer radiates
for she kept it in
for her safety
for him
and for the sake of an illusion

the illusion where she knows he'll come back
the man he actually loves
but as time flew by, he never came back

she lived with a beast inevitable from escape
for she let him tore off her wings so she may never fly again.

and in our journey,
we found desert ruins
and we claimed it as our own

with laws that only served us,
time that was only mere fiction,
and happiness that was not in scarcity,
we were rulers.

"as your patriarch,
i see no reason for me
to not serve thee,
my love."
i exhale
as if as a king
i were to long live

yet as thou took it,
i slowly fade away from thee
and with it i no longer live
not a spiritual death was of this nature
but an emotional one

for i yearned for your flowers
and thou gave me your thorns

but i am a man of my word
and to thee i say,
"ye shall love thee,
till thy kingdom come."

my professor made me stand up in class one day
he asked me,
"who are you?"

and for a moment i went blank
who am i?

"you're a lawyer."
"you're a psychologist?!"
"you're a teacher."
from my relatives, i heard.
but i kept running through my mind
it wasn't me.

"you're a ****."
"you're always scared."
"you're very skeptical."
"you're an activist."
"you're so pessimistic."
in the familiar voice of my best friends
but still is this me?
am i really all of that?

"you're a heartbreaker."
"you hurt me."
"you don't even care."
in the voices of ex-lovers, they yelled at me.
i kept running

wHy aRe tHeRe sO mAnY vErSiOnS oF mE?

i asked god for an answer
but the crucifix just stared back at me
in the voice of silence

**** I STILL DON'T KNOW WHO AM I!

but i looked at the mirror
it was right across the room
and i saw it
i saw the answer.

i took a deep breath and looked at my professor
and with confidence i told him
"i'm a lawyer.
i'm not just a psychologist.
i'm a professor.
i don't have a preference therefore i'm a ****.
i'm not scared or depressed, i'm just a realist.
i haven't found the one, apparently.
but, all in all,
i'm a bundle of everyone's perception
i am myself."
and i smiled at him
while he smiled at me back as he nodded slowly.

and after 18 years did i realize who i was
i was myself
and i was at peace with that

helianthus
they won't always be yellow
for instances
they can be blue
they may be grey

like icarus
he may have wanted to fly
but not all wings
are as sturdy as everyone's

just like her
she won't be as yellow as van gogh
she'll be as chaotic as goya
or she may be abstract as picasso

but without a doubt
she'll be beautiful
no matter how the world will paint her
and just like everything
art
nature
you will never live without her

so tend her as she blooms
and have strength in coloring
in the never-ending painting
that is her.

siguro nga tama ang mga nang-aatake sa atin.

"bakit ka matatakot,
terorista ka ba?"

bakit nga ba matatakot táyo kung hindi tayo terorista?

hindi naman, hindi ba?

táyo'y mga aktibista;
aktibista sa ating mga sariling pamamaraan.

táyo ang magpapabago sa takbo ng bayan,
sa bawat sistema nito,
sa bawat institusyon nito,
at sa bawat pagkakamali nito.

hindi lang din táyo mga aktibista
táyo ay mga rebolusyonaryo.

bakit nga ba táyo kailangan pang matakot?

they say the best flowers
are the ones young and bloomed
and the ones who are wilted
has no more to do

it got me thinking about me and you
why did you choose me
and why did i choose you?

"we're broken machines," you said
"we're left to rot and die now"
that was your philosophy
but just like that
aren't we like the flowers
no longer pretty?

you chose the wilted flowers, sometimes
you give them sprinkles of water
maybe that's why you chose me
you believe in second chances

maybe we water each other
to bear beauty once again
you think that one day
we can be humans again

maybe in time
we can't be humans together
but now i feel human
maybe not forever

She doesn’t know it.
He doesn’t know that photos of him are the only thing on my phone’s gallery

From the moments we would walk home underneath the moonlight
To the sudden dates we take outside my hometown
Every minute I had with her,
I secretly have a photo of her feeling the moment

It was in those still shots of her
Either spinning around while she let her hair sway
Or looking down at her food
Or just staring blankly at the road filled with rushing cars
I had a photo from every moment.

You also don’t know about the way I look at you
It was like a kid flabbergasted over the thousands of stars underneath her
I was always fascinated by you

You don’t know them
Because I never wanted to let you know
And it was better off that way

It was better off not loving you

It was better off I didn’t have you in my embrace
Than to break you with it

You’ve told me about your scars
And god forbid for you to have another one

Because all you see right now
It’s that all you had was yourself
And I was just the diary to your pen

In fact, you never even let me call you by your name
It wasn’t that you hate your name
Because everything about you
From your name
Down to every thread of your identity
You only kept it to yourself

So, in every photo I took of you
I make sure it doesn’t show a glimmer of your face
Because I want you to keep who you are hidden from I at all cost
And god forbids that you let me break it.

i have always heard of aristophanes' story of soulmates be retold a bunch of times. the story always starts with humans originally having 4 legs, 4 arms, and a head with two faces. fearing the power they hold, zeus split them into two; condemning them to spend their lives finding their other halves.

i have always found it funny and fascinating. but i can't help but to think if the story is flawed?

because who's to say that there's only one person for me my whole life? who's to say that it can't take the form of a lover?

it can take place in the form of a friend that checks up on you at random
it can take place in the form of a professor that helps you when you've been underperforming
it can take place in the form of a parent that has always had your back throughout your years.

but why stop there? who's to say it had to be a person?

it can take place in the form of a sunny day where the sky is as clear as the ocean
it can take place in the form of an object that has always brought you back to your comfort zone
it can even take place in the form of a stray cat that is very playful to you everytime you pass by them

but again, i beg the question. who's to say aristophanes wasn't right? because maybe i am wrong

maybe, all this time, i just never met the right person

because i never met someone
who was as calm as a bright, blue sky
as playful and cheerful like a feral cat
as warm and welcoming like a friend

till i met you.