Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
tinkerbell Sep 14
the clock struck twelve, but i still didn't write.
in a room with only the laptop screen
and the blinking cursor as a guide,
it's impossible to find something interesting
that the administrators can consider.
then the thought of your hair loose, swaying as you run
breezily passed my thoughts
and soon enough
the blank page in front of me
was filled a supercut of us.

they were fuzzy memories, hazy ones.
but i felt more cozy and warm
as the video added snippets after snippets,
moments after moments.
my eyes started to blur as i re-witnessed
(after a long time of denial)
the love i felt for you, and still feel.

i'd rather chase you for that ice-cream scooper,
let you read those novels while i count the times you blink,
sleep on your shoulder,
and mouth "go idol!" in the audience
while you perform on stage with unsure confidence
rather than impress those administrators
with fake dreams and promises
of wanting to be accepted in another environment,
where i don't breathe the same air as you do.

as i look out of my window,
i notice that the moon is full and bright,
smiling, i remember you telling me that,
at least, we'll look up at the same sky.
and now with my attention back at the screen,
the supercut was over
and all that's left was the blinking cursor,
pulling me back to reality
and back to the administrators.
tinkerbell Sep 13
sa kasalakuyan,
nakatapak tayo sa isang malawak na lupain,
at dinig ang mga martsang may ibubulong at aaminin.
sa ilang minutong inilaan,

na kahit sino ay hindi bawal mahalin.

                       isa, dalawa, tatlo, ang laban ay sisimula na. 'teka, 'wag muna...

balik! balik! tumalikod ka!
ano daw?    paulit-ulit na 'to, hindi pa daw handa.

balik! balik! tumalikod ka!

utos ni heneral                           sa unang mga kawal

na sumilip gaing sa bagyong mga mata
na minana sa kalaban.

balik! balik! talikod na!
                                                             ­ -ayon kay heneral Luha
  Sep 2018 tinkerbell
If I die in a school shooting
I'll never go home again.
My room will sit unused,
A capsule frozen in time,
A snapshot of how I was.

If I die in a school shooting
I'll never see my dog again.
She will sit at the front door
Waiting for me and wondering,
Why I never came home.

If I die in a school shooting
I'll never graduate from high school.
My yearbooks will sit stacked
Stopped short of their goal,
Missing years that should have been.

If I die in a school shooting
I'll never see my mom again.
She will sit distraught,
Planning a funeral
For a child taken from her.

If I die in a school shooting
I'll never see my friends again.
They'll sit together, missing me.
One empty seat among them,
A constant reminder of their loss.

If I die in a school shooting
I'll never see my little sister again.
She will sit through high school
Knowing I can't guide her through,
That she has to figure it out alone.

If I die in a school shooting
My school will be stained.
Pools of students lives will sit,
Blood tattoos on the brick structures,
Marks of death ground into it.

If I die in a school shooting
Everyone will wear black.
They'll send their thoughts and prayers
To a town marred by death,
Forever to be the home of a shooting.

If I die in a school shooting
Will the world change?
Or will I become one of hundreds  
Of kids who have to die?
What will it take?

If things continue this way
Children will have to live in fear.
They'll look over their shoulders
Always worried and wondering,
If they'll die in a school shooting.
The state of Florida is now home to the two most deadly mass shootings in American history. Pulse Nightclub was attacked in my city, I have friends who attend Marjory Stoneman Douglas in Parkland. My little sister often fears going to school. I'm afraid to graduate and leave her. I want to be able to protect her if something happens. I hate that we have a reason to be afraid... That it's reasonable to have these fears. I hate it so f*cking much.
tinkerbell Sep 2018
if the waves go away for the last time,
and if the sun left us to the moon for an eternal night
patiently waiting for you would go away too.
but we know that these won't ever be true
i’ll always keep on loving you.
the waves, yes they go! but they'll always miss the shore.
the sun, yes it sinks! but we know that it’ll come, brighter than the day before.
my patience could be tested and others could walk in,
but you are the only prize i want to win.
whether it takes three hundred and sixty five days
or six hundred more, i’ll wait.
waiting is the game, and i want to win.
tinkerbell Jan 2018
a baby born from mother's womb
is her father's glory, and same time tomb.
he risked it all, he risked his right
for his sunshine to grow in the light.

"mama! mama? look at me!
where is papa? i made him coffee."
mother didn't budge and sat upright,
daughter can't quell her worries yet slept through the night.

she then woke up, heard a bang from the door,
saw poor mother sobbing on the floor.
"help me up child, from now on.
father cannot hear us until the war's done."

it's sad, actually.
for this child is also called,
who would want to sugarcoat lies?
so it is therefore better
to leave without goodbyes.
there are the lives of dependent of soldiers in field, who would want to wake up an orphan?

— The End —