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dye Feb 2015
is
when you wanna crawl back to your mother's womb
with a thread and needle
so you can sew
that
vaginal opening
shut
dye Aug 2014
They say shallow graves are for shallow people
But in your case, you need not to be buried
superficiality
12/13/13
dye Aug 2014
You carved a ******* out of my icy heart
dye Jun 2016
1: shallow beach

our little talks
have always been like
little waves,
secretly desperate for height,
something passionate surfers
will never learn to like;
and like a lonely muddy puddle,
desperate for depth,
hoping that someday
it'll swallow up all the boots
stomping on it.


2: gutter

our exchanges have
always been trippy as ****.
every word we say floats above our heads
and we would smirk as we watch them position themselves.
they form these neon swirls
that our pupils **** in for us
to share a nirvanic high.
as we see the post lights beat different colors,
our monochromatic mindscapes
dramatically turn into psychedelic voids.
on this elevated surface,
on this gutter,
on this place most people perceive
as a spit spot,
and on this cemetery
for cigarette corpses,
our chaotic souls
have found a dwelling place
and
our cluttered minds
realized its capacity
to be eloquent like a fluid pen,
to be sad yet tranquil like somber nights,
and to be embossed like keloid scars.


3: airplane

our
conversations
taste
exactly just
like the view
from a window seat
on a starry night flight.
our sentences never failed to leave
trails of cerulean glitters on our tongues
before they came out of our mouths.
but as we moved above
the dots of city lights,
we could only think of how
depressingly ephemeral
everything is.

4:  mind palace

our intertwined thoughts
built a helix bridge
connecting a place of infinite stairs
to an abandoned house of mirrors.
i can't forget when you told me once
that i was your favorite trespasser.
but to me, you're just one of those strangers
who tiptoed his way to get in
just so he could try to figure out
which mirror door led
to my most honest labyrinth.

5: rainforest

every time our letters fall like raindrops
and land as paragraphs on the dry earth,
the petrichor is sniffed by pine trees  
and as they happily sway,
they discover their capacities to dream.
they aspire to be the blank moldy papers
that only the two of us can fill.
they desperately want our words
tattooed on their skins.
our hands, their spine.
their home, our minds.

6: dance studio

we agreed that we were the world's
most horrible dancers
because we danced with our
two left brains,
not with our
two left feet.
i could only come by night,
and you could only come by day,
but our opposite timezones
never prohibited us to miss
this dazzling performance
only our minds can make.
sitting cross-legged together
in front of a wide mirror,
we see
two people
dancing
two different genres
but somehow magically
complementing each other

7: bedroom

we made our discussions
with our spontaneous feet.
each aimless step
summoned a plethora of paths
that we promised we'll take
i can't seem to forget
how happily  lost we were;
not because we are products of a consumer-obsessed era,
but because we are products of the realization that the Earth is made of unlimited wormholes that we can zap through to discover things.
i can't also seem to forget
how our days would end with our toes touching the
chipping paint on your wall
while we stare at the photographs we took by the sun;
while we listen to music as our souls spun.
it has been our personal routines to remind ourselves
that we are not slaves of superficiality.
but as what i feared...
we expired
just like the stardust we basked in.
we used to bleed dreams,
but now, what are we?
we have become two cogs left to tarnish
in some corporate machinery
06/06/16
"the conversations you have are as important as the lectures you go to."
dye Aug 2014
Home
From shelter to smother

Hope
From zero to subzero

Dreams
From ceaseless to evanescent

Feelings
From persistent to transient

Solitude
From instant to rare

Beliefs
From firm to brittle

Judgment
From deep to epidermic

Sobriety
From fascinating to monochromatic

Transitions
From fast to rapid

Life
From tasteful to **insipid
edge moments
10/18/13
dye Aug 2014
Patay.

Nagsimula sa wala.
Nagsimula sa bula.
Kailan kaya kikislap
Ang natutulog na kulisap?

Sindi.

Unti-unting nauubos ang yosi
Umiikli na ang pagkahaba-habang pisi
Aking tinanong nang masinsinan sa sarili
"Sa pagsindi ba talaga nagsisimula ang pagsisisi?"

Pundi.**

Ang ilaw ay biglang namatay
Iyon na pala ang huli kong silay
Ang mata ko'y tila parang pilay
Hindi makalakad tungo sa inaagnas **** bangkay
08/10/14
inspired by Dagitab

hashtag corny hashtag pagtyagaan
hashtag cynical romantic
dye Aug 2014
we are the cogs
in the machinery
that will speed up
our extinction
dye Sep 2014
People die because it's easier to live without a body
RIP RFB
09/02/14
dye Oct 2015
"i love reading people."
he said

"i love writing fiction."*
she* said
10/14/15
I.
dye Aug 2014
I.
This will be the last time I will write about you

Sure enough, this statement will just disintegrate into dust and fall
into a litter of all the “this will be last time“‘s I’ve
said
I know myself too much already
That it will be a bad lie to say that I’ve closed the chapter
Your chapter
That I had intentionally dog-eared so I won’t get lost in rummaging
through the pages
Fact is, even if I didn’t
I took a mental picture of the page number
Another fact is, I always claim that I have ended it
But I secretly sneak and dig up the book I’ve buried just to read you
again
Because every time I thought I lost the feeling, I will feel euphoric
for split seconds
But then I will feel so empty that I have to get the feeling back
immediately
I don’t know if you just became a habit that morphed into something
hard to break

I also don’t know if this is the real thing
I’ve been sitting between two chairs for a long time
It was always a battle: your idea versus reality
But no matter how much I fool myself that I’m a thinking person now,
I will always be a slave of my own disgusting feelings

I don’t want to lose the feeling of how you make me feel
I don’t want to lose the thought of you, only you, and your distinct
power over this diamond-hard heart
I don’t want to lose the tingling of my nerves when your details seep
in
How being with you is not one of my disposable days
You’re not extraordinary, not rare
you’re exceptional
That you will always make me look for you in other people
You’re not a fish, you’re the Loch Ness Monster
Maybe you’re just a hoax, but there’s only one of you
And that I think,
is the best and
(at the same time)
worst thing
about you
recycled **** series
II.
dye Aug 2014
II.
Back when I was in this height,
I despised cigarettes
because I have a history of it burning my finger
But one day in class,
I asked my teacher
“Why do people still keep on selling them when the box clearly says ‘Smoking is dangerous to your health?’”
The aim wasn’t at you but you took the bullet
You, out of all people,
were brave enough to outsmart someone
who should be smarter than the rest of us
All my senses went bonkers except for my sense of sight
I looked at you, my eyes selfishly held you
that I wasn’t able to bag any of your words
Up to this date
What you exactly said about those **** cigarettes
is still a question that keeps on swimming in the depths of my head
but
it always felt like
the blurry words uncloaked letter by letter
every ******* time
I inhaled you
and
exhaled you
recycled **** series
dye Aug 2014
I never knew
I was in a game
until I realized that I was playing
with a strategist
who knew where to hit, the angle to shoot from
what my Achilles heel was,
the most fragile part to touch
a witty ***** who tickled my inner sleuth,
poked my curiosity
i started gathering
dates, hours, minutes, seconds,
mixed signals,
distorted paragraphs,
slurred sentences,
and
ambiguous words
like a bunch of clues
and then i would act like Sherlock
as if you’re a case to crack
and you knew that I don’t give up on my cases
until they’re closed
well, i guess
i was just right not telling
you something you were always
blithely aware of
that
the ticket to my heart will always
be through my thoughts
being the clever ******* that you were,
you already knew what would pester me consistently
you must have wanted to torment me so much
**that you
made
yourself
a
“what if”
recycled **** series
dye Nov 2016
the sky bled pastel;
the angels must be stabbing
each other again.
IV.
dye Aug 2014
IV.
i knew you enough
that it would not be absurd
to arrive on
a universal conclusion
that you look better
skinless, muscleless, deboned
like an enthusiastic med student,
i would ****
just to have your cadaver
so i can passionately
anatomize you
the same way
a musician with a good ear
can dissect a song
saying it non-metaphorically,
the sum of your parts
is a million times better
than your entirety
sure, everyone hailed you a genius
but you didn’t know that, did you?
because you kept on
settling
for people who
never saw you
beyond
your
glistening
body sheets
recycled **** series
dye Aug 2014
we were inside a gazebo
alone together
with salt caramel beer on our hands
and sticks of nicotine
to syncopate our life spans
to fill the dead air,
you thought it was a great idea
to talk about our vices
you asked me why
i drink and smoke
i told you that
***** is like my own personal body of water
my ocean,
my river,
my stream,
my sea,
my dead sea
where i could either sink or swim,
even float effortlessly
and i only smoke when
heaving a sigh is not enough
i threw the same question right back at you
and you said
you have always been a sucker for winning
so you drink to outdrink
and smoke to outsmoke
your buddies
but most of the time, yourself

we may have different reasons
but we both agreed that
we are at our sanest when we are at our drunkest

you gave me another bottle
and asked me if i was  
up for a challenge

i nodded at you
and that's the last thing I could remember
dye Aug 2014
I’m a step c l o s e r to the finish line
I ran exhaustingly just to be fine
But before I knew it, he was there
He was the winner, and it’s so **unfair
07/11/08
dye Aug 2014
we are the vertex that opens up an asymmetrical parabola
dye Aug 2014
Mentally asphyxiate*
You don't need the lack of air to *suffocate
4/27/2013
dye Aug 2014
When I rejected you, I was saving your life.
dye Aug 2014
why do we keep on insisting that we should build a
bridge
to start this affair

when we both know that we can walk on air?
07/27/14

inspired by Will Graham & Alana Bloom lololol
dye Aug 2014
i am the immovable object; you are the unstoppable force
dye Aug 2014
Doesn’t matter how long or deep
True intentions are so hard to keep
The aftermath of trusting
Is always your faith rusting

In the head of the pisanthrophobic
Doubt will always play the hysteric *****
No hearts will ever pass through the filter
**Because they all deserve a spot in your litter
10/13/13
dye Nov 2014
so far,
my life has been a series of

extinguished   flames,
pity    parties,
crossed-out   names,
clogged   arteries,

temporary   highs,
unread   notes,
hollow   eyes,
anti-jokes,

spoiled   egg yolks,
abandoned  homes,
invisible  cloaks,
& inarticulate  *poems
11/21/14
happy birthday in advance, self
dye Oct 2016
so far,
my life has been a series of

man-made  clouds,
endless   to-do lists,
void-like   doubts,
blinding   mind mists,

hollow   entertainment,
playful   silhouettes,
forced   amusement,
mad   architects,

rapid   comets,
dead   mockingbirds,
repressed   vomits,
& disposable    **firsts
happy birthday in two months, self
dye Aug 2014
Every time I look at you,
it's a sin to blink.
Every time I plunge into you,
it's an art to sink
dye Oct 2015
"why is the sky blue?",
asked a blind man whose mindscape
is devoid of hue
10/08/15
di ko din gets mga sinusulat ko series
dye Aug 2014
You were the fisherman
I was the bait
She was the fish

You were the ruler
I was the meter
She was the inch

You were the hunter
I was the bullet
She was the deer

You were the drunkard
I was the bottle cap
She was the beer

You were the singer
I was the song
She was the ear

You were the eyes
I was the duct
She was the tear

You were the magician
I was the illusion
She was the debunker

You were the future
I was the now
She was the later

You were the passenger
I was the shed
She was the bus

You were my lover
I was your other
There was never an **us
01/31/10
corny puta
dye Aug 2014
We will never be at par
But you never fail to make my night skies stellar

We will never dance in the same wavelength
But you make me want to swim against the current

South and North
Our ships won’t land on the same port

Black keys and white keys
But there were never grey keys

Half-empty, half-full
But not in the same glass, fool

Pineapples and liquor
You wouldn’t escape the hurl

A sucker punch in the gut
Your knees would curl

The fire’s halfway to the end of the wick
Only a drop of water to make it quit






But lemniscate buts, ****
Here I am again gulping back my own spit
snap out series
02/19/13
dye Aug 2014
I am being fed so much
And day by day, I ((((bloat))))
I wanted to buy abstinence
But it’s a luxury I can’t afford

Spoons in line with my mouth on “o”
Hands  tied down, head  glued to the wall
The same l i n e, like a marquee, moves to and fro
**"I’d rather die than force myself to swallow"
snap out series
09/02/13
dye Aug 2014
I built these walls
                          y - high t
                    k                 a
That are s                       l                        
                                       ­l 
But plain idiocy
It never occurred to me
                                                        abo­ve  
That the onslaught can come from
Or dig its way
                       underneath



It’s so useless to be armed
If you’re an easy **** from the start
snap out series
10/10/13
dye Aug 2014
Don’t hold on to what’s pseudo
Don’t hold on to thin threads
Don’t hold on to blurred images
Don’t hold on to stale possibilities
Don’t hold on to half-baked cakes
Don’t hold on to broken earphones
Don’t hold on to fake tattoos
Don’t hold on to loose knots

**Just don’t
snap out series
07/02/13
dye Aug 2014
the hurricane year died down
my crows flew away
leaving your chewed flesh on the ground

the soil was hungry
and you were the meal
i watched as your pecked body face the deal

"vanish before my eyes"
were the final words to heal
my hanging heart and confuzzled feels

i went to bed and slightly mourned
painlessly crying
i was null and dull

the next morning, i brought a shovel
i thought of exhuming you
but instead i visited the devil

i went to his hell with a bottle of Absinthe
we clunk our glasses together
and drank from it with blithe

we celebrated your absence, we celebrated your death
we celebrated what we carefully worked on
since you and i met
snap out series
03/28/14
dye Aug 2014
sipping* black & red,
i sit idly alone.

watching whilst the grayscale bled,
desaturating the colors' tones.

the hues soon gasped for their final breaths
and the beauty decided to grind into an end

but i'm still sipping black & red,
sitting idly alone.
04/09/14
dye Aug 2014
You were once the piece of skin
that got stuck in between the threads of my words

So don't ask me why my poems about you
are downright slurred
dye Aug 2014
Foot half-dipped,
I was convinced
that you were a safe sea to swim

But not until
The undercurrent pulled my heel
"You'll be facing the kindest of all deaths," said the swallowing transparent teal  

The liquid filled me
As if I'm its long lost home
Life happily slipped out of me, hushing my bones

After a year,
they found my body
and in stabbing disbelief, the people stared at me

Turns out
I drowned in a puddle
Not in a sea

Turns out
Instead of testing the waters,
the waters have tested me
08/09/14
dye Oct 2015
(inspired by Petersen Vargas’s “fourteen boys”)

1
here’s to the boy who
i unknowingly married
when i was a kindergartner
only for him to unknowingly divorce me
inside a moving train
thirteen years later

2
here’s to the boy whose
once-euphoric image
instantly floated away from me
as the heavy riffs
of an underrated rock band
ignited a crowd surf
that only moved from east to west

3
here’s to the boy who
had the courage to ask me why
i was good at spelling
but never had the guts to ask
me if I liked him back

4
here’s to the boy
whose memories never ceased to haunt me.
from the questions about cigarettes to the questions about bra sizes,
from the diary entries to serial poems,
from us not happening to us never happening.

5
here’s to the boy who
treated me as an eyepiece
when all i ever wanted
was to be
his favorite specimen

6
here’s to the boy who
i turned into a melancholic four-chord song
when he proved to me that
white roses and love letters
don’t work well as bribes

7
here’s to the boy
who decided to sum up
three years of
our one-sided,
on-off
relationship
by responding “when?”
the night
i finally had the sanity
to tell him,
“don’t cry. i loved you so much.”

8
here’s to the boy
whose hand i held
for it was about to
be sliced thin  
by my razor-edged ribs

9
here’s to the boy who
i wish i met in another Earth

10
here’s to the boy who
hugged me
backstage
and threw tomatoes
at me
frontstage

11
here’s to the boy who
is two-dimensional,
but is a million times human
than the people i know

12
here’s to the boy who
plucked the right strings
when i began humming
an unfamiliar tune

13
here’s to the boy who
collects broken hearts
for his own pleasure,
but was very disappointed
when he wasn’t able to break mine

14
here’s to the boy who
left me alone on a boat
so he could swim his way
towards a luxury cruise ship

15
here’s to the boy who
knows too much
about me
but too little
about her

16
here’s to the boy
whose sighs inflated my lungs,
and who later on taught me how to build sandcastles
out of his cigarette ashes so he could eventually
blow them down with his exhales.
(not because he likes to destroy what i’ve built,
but because he always enjoyed
the sight of me basking
in the powdery white-gray ruins)  

17
here’s to the boy who
convinced me why
i shouldn’t procreate

18
here’s to the boy
whose brain i wanted to unspool
so i could crochet a beanie
out of his to-die-for fibers

19
here’s to the boy
whose outward boffs
made me wish
he was my creator,
and whose own silence
drowned
out his pulse
last September

20
here’s to the boy
who made me wish
i had a ****, bigger than his,
so i could show him more ways
to squander masculinity

21
here’s to the boy who
told all his stories to me,
and who hated math so much
but was better at it than me

22
here’s to the boy who
i broke off midsentence
when he thought Richard Linklater
was directing both of our lives

23
here’s to the boy
who lavished me with his
words and inspired me
to come up with
this spin-off

24
here’s to the boy who
was vindictive enough
he didn’t entertain the thought
of depriving me of a body

25
here’s to the boy who
thought he had a slot
on this poem
02/22/15
dye Oct 2015
The calm after the storm is a transitional heads up for another storm


* *

You're a year-long torrential downpour
that I managed to survived
And now I'm hoarding my goods
because the next one is about to arrive

Who knows when,
who knows how long
But one thing is for sure,
you'll just be a drizzle in comparison
08/15/14
dye Aug 2014
I always knew that
I’ve been throwing rocks into
*A ripple-proof sea
recycled ****
10/30/13
dye Aug 2014
Kung kailan ako mapagbigay, doon ako madamot.
Kung kailan ako malinis, doon ako nilulumot.

Kung kailan ako gumagalaw, doon ako paralisado.
Kung kailan ako malaya, doon ako limitado.

Kung kailan ako makulay, doon ako monokromatiko.
Kung kailan ako mapait, doon ako romantiko.

Kung kailan ako masipag, doon ako tamad.
Kung kailan ako magaling, doon ako nilalagnat.

Kung kailan ako malinaw, doon ako malabo.
Kung kailan ako matalino, doon ako bobo.

Kung kailan ako umaalab, doon ako upos.
Kung kailan ako puno, doon ako ubos.

Kung kailan ako maayos, doon ako magulo.
Kung kailan ako puro puso, doon ako puro ulo.

Kung kailan ako mayaman, doon ako mahirap.
Kung kailan ako nandyan, doon ako mailap.

Kung kailan ako nagbabasa, doon ako nagsusulat.
Kung kailan ako kalmado, doon ako nagugulat.

Kung kailan ako sigurado, doon ako nagtataka.
Kung kailan ako sumasagwan, doon ako bumabangka.

Kung kailan ako nangangaso, doon ako nangingisda.
Kung kailan ako umaatake, doon ako dumedepensa.

Kung kailan ako hypothalamus, doon ako atay.
Kung kailan ako buhay, doon ako patay.



Kung kailan ako tao, doon ako hindi tao.


Kung kailan ako ako, doon ako hindi ako.
personal fallacy series #1 07/18/14
dye Feb 2015
Funny how physicists never mentioned
that there are such things as
walking dimensions




Because the irony has always been this:
We may be occupying the same space
but we don’t coexist
07/24/14
V.
dye Aug 2014
V.
funny how
two people could
believe in
the concept
of “timing”
without even
checking if
their watches
are
in sync
recycled **** series
VI.
dye Aug 2014
VI.
In my mere existence,
I have developed
my own diseases

One of them
sprung from my
fiction
fixation:
It happens when I begin
to “know” someone.
Being a human of extremes,
it’s either I’ll
exaggerate
or
underplay
my perception
of a person
Basically,
it’s entirely
my fault
why i’m suffering
from my own delusions

Of course,
all this time,
I knew that
I’m just
into the you
I made
inside my head

but you can debunk
me
if you want
recycled **** series
dye Aug 2014
As we threw our caps north,
my excitement sank south
descending step by step in a spiral staircase
the hope started flickering
this might be the last glimpse
but holding on to a ‘might be’ is critical, delicate
it’s like breathing with gaps in between
you might die anytime soon,
who knows
I might see you lifeless in a box
but I’ll keep you alive
in my memory
with strong hues
vivid outlines
our plots unrevised
exact timelines and spaces
names of people we liked

I won't stop remembering
because that's the only way
to make myself forget
recycled **** series
dye Aug 2014
A conversation with an imaginary stranger:

"You'd drink, too, if you knew the world half as well as I do."  
A drunk actor once said.


"You'd drug yourself, too, if you knew his world half as well as I do."
I retorted.
07/06/14
credit: the first quote is from The Prestige
X.
dye Aug 2014
X.
when
you
left,
i
stopped
believing
in
second
chances

however,
i
started
realizing
what
terminals
and
checkpoints
are
for
dye Feb 2015
remember when we shared my earphones
on a passenger bus
so we could listen to a Daughter song
that best resembled us

instead of whispering the exact lyrics
into the hollows of each other's ears
this is was what we thought out loud:
*we want each other so much
but we hate our guts.
now playing: daughter - landfill
recycled **** series

— The End —