in your absence
i immersed myself in sadness,
for there was nothing left to love
in the remaining pieces of you
that was too blurry for me
to comprehend in the first place.
    was it really you?
because i felt too many heartaches
trying to filter your name in my palms
—you made me figure out
so many things on my own
as if this kind of mystery
will compel me to draw closer to you.

but i, too, am human
i grow weary of repetitive things
that remain obscure,
just like how your name
sounded sweet every time—
     only for it to mean nothing to me.

like ***** laundry, my sadness
pile on top of one another,
and now i am grieving
because your name sounds like a metal
being dragged on the ground
—a heaviness that keeps
tugging my heart wide open.

there is no more room for you here,
my love for you has finally died.

i think i exist only to love
but never experience,
a pretentious bag of bones like me
will only stir your feelings
     —you will wallow in it for some time
     and then you will forget about me
like a cup of coffee that has gone cold.

but if i must admit,
it's because i do stunt my own growth:
in life, in love, but strangely enough,
                                           not in death.
an odd number of reasons
aid my tendencies;
they get glued together to form
a paper-maché of well-composed farewells
—a craft i have mastered in my years of longing.

i think i exist only to love,
but never experience—
yet here i am, still longing
until i get a hand to hold.

i like the way i make you go soft,
when i touch you like a friend
and your hands start to sweat
as if my fingers brushed your lips.
when your eyes hold my gaze
and you look at me lovingly,
even if our faces
never met each other's warmth.
            not even once.
tell me, how do i make you go hard?
because it seems that you only kiss people
who makes your body quiver.
     you only want to love
      when they give you a certain pulse
—but didn't i make your heart beat more faster
when i poured the gravity of my heart
to satisfy yours?

slather my lips more with your salivated
ecstasy.
pry my mouth open
and speak to me in french—kiss and make me
remember that these illusions are safe. perhaps
alter my two realities,
tell me that i am real—you are real. this trip has no
end, i know. but i've never been loved like this.

      i would end it if it means i'd get to live again,
      but then i'll leave you here
      —all alone with no one to hold.

This fifth dimension
might be teasing us,
but no matter how it does
I still see you even at dusk.

Remember when we met once—at twilight,
when the sun and moon met our glance;
in our heart, there were similar feeling that runs
only to find comfort when we held hands.

We were about to write our name on each other’s palm,
to never forget the one who cries this psalm,
until the sun decided to leave the moon at the sky turning plum,
I looked at the broken letter that made my mind calm,
while my heart was suddenly drenched with sorrow as if,
the one, turned the door—and slam.

Within me,
is a soul filled with bliss,
but every time I awoke there seems to be something that I miss–
a longing for something or someone without a trace,
and I could not find it in this place.

How I wish these words within
could travel to what I’ve been searching–
If I only know where the point starts and end;
of this mesmerizing rainbow or the droplets of the rain;
then maybe, we could somehow meet again.

Outro:
Your name is still stringed within me
but I cannot seem to figure the right letters that you told me;
If you recognize me when we cross paths
and we are afraid to speak each other’s name,
let’s make our signal
how to say, “Nice to meet you”.

I’ve been thinking of names. Of faces. Of familiar voices. I wanted human touch. I needed human touch. I’ve always been crying in my own arms. Always. If not mine, I’m crying on my pillow thanking God he was the only one who knew my thoughts. My feelings. He was always there. I don’t know what would  I do if he wasn’t.

     Today, I woke up feeling vague. I felt like there was a hole in my heart I forced to plug with who knows what. Then I suddenly found myself tearing up. I just could not accept the fact that someone had been pretending. Someone had always been pretending and I didn’t know. I had no idea. I wish I had noticed it before it devoured me.
     This gave me a lot of pain more than any unrequited feelings I have ever felt. I have only come to know that being lied to was the worst thing one could feel.

I, too, am pretentious. But not that pretentious.

The word 'friend'
brings an echo of headache
to my solemn mind
for I have no more strength
to fathom of what it really is.
I am exhausted of this cycle
of myself
trying to understand those
who cannot even understand me.
I am exhausted
of giving my trust
to someone
with a playful mind--
I just stood in my place
like a a string in a candle wax--
I was burning,
I was in pain,
but still,
even though I tried to protect them
I ended up hurting them instead


     again.
                again...
      and
again.