the distance between us is not keeping me from missing you. i miss you. i miss you like how i miss myself since the day someone took a piece of me and never gave it back. i miss you like the emptiness inside of me that keeps me from being happy. i miss you like the days when i was still my daddy's girl and i wish i could bring back the way he looked at me again. i miss you like the song i heard once that i can't seem to get out of my head because the title is forgotten somewhere in there. i miss you like how i miss my friend that now lays inside a coffin with her name carved on a stone and inside my body. i miss you like how i miss breathing. i miss you like how the world yells at me for being this sad. i miss you like the soul i used to have.

an ambition, a dream
pumped up hearts and faith
we are not as different as them

in the rain, we shivered
when duty calls they say we are brave
but our hands shakes as we gripped the spear

is it the blood,
or is it death?
what of this fear we cannot take?

the droplets turned to angry music
we were terrified
of what?

too scared to lose a roof in the storm
anxiety creeps on our beds
we are sleepless again

our comfort is not ours to keep
because life is a battle
where no one really wins

the pavement of the old structure
stings of rust and heavy air
buzzing on hallways,
dead walking

a book in her hand,
she was as beautiful as ever
her mind travels across the sea
faith for better days

the heavy air digs a hole in her heart
she had died a thousand times
one for every second she wasted,
walking on this ungrateful pavement

calm yourself
drink that glass of water
this time don't assume that you are drowning

remember your childhood
how your 4 year old self is staring back at you
tell her she is worth it
rip the words out of your throat and free it from that prison
now don't assume that you are drowning

when you were young you were too fragile to make a stand
your hand trembles as the cold touch of a stranger's hand invades your skin
you realized you hate it when people touch you

you can't remember the first time you got cat called
but the words they said never left your brain since then
it repeats and repeats itself
without your permission

your father looks at you disapprovingly
when you first learned how to look pretty in a dress
you are trying to tell him that it doesn't matter
any kind clothing that will cover my skin is no exception
that many times over when im wearing my school uniform
is the majority where strangers that i happen to pass by at streets tried to touch my body

your mother explains that you have to keep it safe
but you know that safe is an illusion

that you will never be assured of your safety
for as long as men have eyes like daggers
and words that rolls off their tongue like its meant to bring you down

you are underwater now
their words will always reach you
but your voice will invade so much space
you would learn how to  fight back

someday you will stop finding comfort in trying to drown your sorrows

my family is never one to show love but is an expert in portraying hate
it is said that a house is the foundation to build a home
but in my family, the space between us spreads miles apart
this house is not well-built enough to hold us together

the night i learned how to eat fast just to get out of the dinner table
was when i realized that my hands are slipping away from the people i know by blood

this pavement would only allow avoiding eye contact
living room silent treatment
fist on walls
swearing after swearing

like pieces of cheap glass, it is falling apart
this house is too scarred to handle anymore of the vengeance we hold
too ruined to see one more person leaving

as i grow old i am becoming its replica
how these cracked walls longed for affection
suffocating on moments that had passed
screaming for renovation

mom.. dad..
i have not been home for years
i wonder when will you be searching for me

like a sin, it haunts me
my father's knotted forehead who hustles day and night
to make up for the bills he traded for long dive on the ocean of no escape
he who had broken the chains is now paying  for a lifetime's worth of slavery
with more mouths to feed
my mother,
what she had become was the aftermath of abuse
shaking hands
the sad ending she had to settle for

and i'd like to believe my brothers were brave
even if every now and then they would have to leave to find themselves
and they got further and further
each door closing one after another

my sister was the only one who taught me to forgive the ones you love
even if they would commit the same mistake again

i have collected the pieces i wish i could put back
mom...
dad...
and the rest of you,
let's build it together.

they say money can't buy happiness

tell it to the girl who shamelessly googles "how to DIY everything when you have zero budget"
who can finally breathe with ease when bills are paid and the table is not empty

seeing others with outstreached smiles and perfect white teeth that never worries about whether or not we can survive the week without drowning in debts,
never fails to remind me how money can buy expensive smiles like for sale happy pills
happiness is such a foreign language that does not exist here
at least not something we can afford

money can't buy happiness
tell it to my father who trades health for cash
who have long ago wasted the abundance of wealth on drugs and liquors
as i watch the sunshine slip on his fingers i knew that he will forever suffer the consequences- house bills, college, meals, sanity, children's hatred, children's sanity, children's rusted future

money can't buy happiness?
tell it to my mother who sells smiles for food
charming, soft, survivor
but one can never unsee the darkness carved by growing up living in scraps, hidden somewhere in that weight she carries on her shoulders
doing everything to survive and to stay afloat
she who have learned that real weakness exist in poverty

tell it to my family
who have spent restless nights fighting over bills than sharing laughter at the dinner table
because dinner table is a small wooden table and there is never enough room to contain the hunger, hatred and rage we each keep to ourselves
for every talk ends up in arguments,
pointing fingers, knuckles on walls, shattered pieces of glasses on the floor, knife on my mother's hand,
cursing, cursing, cursing..
ears i wish i could cut off
laughter is a privilege we do not feel entitled because there are too many other things to worry about
ask them if they have found happiness yet
and we will answer in chorus: what do you think?