Every moment you wake up
you begin to feel the need to silence
the waves crashing inside your chest,
slowly,
slowly,
the weight invites you into a
bottomless mayhem you may never
get out of,
if you let it.

But dear, do not mistake those waves
for armies of the ocean that you have loved.
Let yourself become something more
than someone dwelling on the verge
of burning pits—
let yourself breathe the tides
that weren't built
to suffocate.

i. Someday you will be a language someone will care to learn. But will he understand? You will make him realize that words can be so beautiful they can fracture jaws. He will lay with you under the stars, and that’s the first moment he will know that he once was a star himself. You will look him in the eyes and you too will begin to realize that they really are unfathomable galaxies. But then you will begin to wonder, where is he? This is the crust of everything I am fond of, not the core of who he really is. You will feel betrayed.

ii. He didn’t know you trained yourself to not fear anything because you are the fear, as what a Batman movie has taught you when you were young.

iii. One day you will begin to taste like regret to him. On closed doors he will blame himself for being attracted to a firestorm. Why didn’t I step back? He will ask himself. When everybody’s watching, he will make it seem like he’s the one being invited to get burned.

iv. He will run away from your arms, but he will always look back confident that you are behind him. But you are not a hurricane, and you were not made to run after someone. You are somewhat the thunder that he mistook for a firestorm.

v. I do not think anyone deserves you.

It began with a star that exploded many, many years ago.
A once magnificent star, I am made of.
I once floated freely in the vastness of the sky,
of the universe, with billions and billions of stars
that once were my neighbors, my friends.

That, my dear Frodo, is where I come in.
For quite by chance and the will of the Universe,
fate decided I would become part of this world we call Earth.

Often I ask myself,
Who am I now?
Why did I have to go?
Why am I here?
Why here amongst creatures acting like they are more star
or less star than the others?

"The first things we noticed were words
like a hurricane—spinning, dancing gorgeously
as if they were invited guests.
The next, we couldn't endure.
This is us—cracking, trembling, collapsing.
This is us—letting him in.
May he not be another reason for you
to build the likes of us again."

I fear that you don't and won't understand that
No doesn't mean the sun must not push the moon away
for you love the embrace of the dusk so much
you would never want to imprison your breath once more.
No doesn't mean the storm has to step back
for you still are not ready for its visit.
Now there's anguish and pain and anguish yet again
that you so violently want to get rid of
for you do not know that
No doesn't mean I should be scared; not in the dark,
but in what could be lurking inside it.
No doesn't mean tear my skin off
for I want to know how passionate you want to explore
this land built for me and never for anybody else.
No doesn't mean my begs for mercy
are tunes that you have to play over and over
until there is no music that you can listen to.
No didn't have to be a case that needs solving.
Now it does.
Now you won't make amends with your conscience.
As if you have any.
Now, tell me,
How is the aftertaste of the dark, of the crime,
and of the withering body of a girl that's nowhere to be found?

Here comes the sprint of emotions
that has been taken captive for so long.
Here comes the fear of exposing too much,
of letting you see how the crack of your song
reveals what words almost die in my darkest corners,
of giving you the bricks of the walls that have been
destroyed since the last time that we spoke.
Here comes the thought of wanting to step back.
Here comes the strong urge to build stronger walls.
Here comes the heavy footsteps of a graveyard
inviting the fears of a girl who finally smile back
at someone who knows how to love her right.

Maybe that's what I was—a wildfire.
You, so sweetly, abandoned the clouds and burst all over me,
but I, as what I should, encircled you with my flames.

You told me to stop burning things dearest to you,
but I bleed, oh, so gently! oh, so passionately!
and left them all to ashes.

Maybe that's what you were—a rainfall.
Always in-between of what I desire
and your battle cry for my last blow.

We didn't say we were a hurricane.
This is my trail, that is yours.
We go together, but we leave our separate ways.

I flickered, I rose, I got out of control.
What else were you there for
if not to watch me swallow the place so fervently
before you can downpour your proudest good bye?