she had enough paint in
her blood to
paint the world
however she wanted
blood-red trees
olive green streams
dogs in royal blue

she found freedom
to be suffocating
and the suffocation
was constisted
of the variety
of choices
and the lack of instructions

"How does one choose
when she also
makes the choices?"

you write
poetry on the
wind
and expect me
to read

the pain wasn't skin-deep,
it was like a torpedo slowly striking
the sea
I can see the pain, it goes through me
but it doesn't
affect me that much
I can take more

- my love songs are for no one now.

I’ve always admired

the existence of flowers

each one

uniquely beautiful

like every person on earth

and somehow

the more I climb,

the more flowers

I get to see

she scattered her love
like confetti
only to know
that in the end
people just ignore it
when the good time
is over.

dear ‘ol self,
can you believe
it’s only been a few weeks and
you can already
stand on both feet?

you’ve danced,
you’ve painted rainbows,
you’ve finished things,
you’ve climbed mountains,
you’ve cried of happiness—

it was all you,
with the help of the sweetest people
and good moments in between,
but it was your choice
to stand up,
and you did.

who knows what’s next?
dear ‘ol self,
bigger things, I suppose.

even in the comfort

of my own house

I never feel at home

it’s as if

there wasn’t home to

begin with

until I found you

but I lost you

so I guess

I’m homeless again

It was like the world’s
first thunderstorm
the rumbling began when
our hands touched

thunder,
like the **** he is,
pushed me to
reach in for a kiss,
and because of lightning’s
true nature,
he surprised me
because you kissed back

from that day on,
I’ve always been hoping
the rainbows never end

i’ve always admired
the existence of flowers
each one
uniquely beautiful
like every person on earth

and somehow
the more i climb,
the more flowers
i get to see

in 5 years
i could’ve grown
a forest
if i planted
a tree
every time you lied
to me,

but i never
knew you were
lying
until it was
too late
to even
tend soil.

sayaw, Eriko

isayaw mo lahat ng
sinabi niyang “mahal kita”
na pakiramdam mo’y totoo
nung mga panahong
umaalis kayo ng
isang araw kada-linggo
kasi dinadayo ka pa niya
sa Maynila

sayaw, Eriko

iindak mo at
isigaw mo sa mikropono
ang pabulong niya pa
noong unang sinabi,
“ako na lang,
iingatan naman kita”
sa maulan na gabi na ‘yun
noong iniiyakan mo
pa ang mga pangyayari
na kinagigitnaan mo

isayaw mo, Eriko

itawa mo lang ang sinayaw
niya sa sala mo
noong gabi na ‘yun
mashed-potato lang kuno
‘di ba?

halakhak, napamahal
ka sa mukha niyang
parang pinigang tuwalya noon
hindi naman siya guwapo
gaya ng lagi niyang sinasabi

umaray ka, Eriko

nasipa ka ng katabi mo,
pero naalala mo lamang
ang mga oras na nagsisipa
ka ng bato sa Makati
habang naglalakad kayo,
at kinukwento niya
ang pamumuhay niya noon
sa malayong lugar,
pawis na pawis kayo
pero ngiti niyo’y abot langit

talon, Eriko
palakpak

ilang buwan na rin ang lumipas
noong huli kayo nagkausap
binati mo siya ng
maligayang kaarawan,
kahit ang araw mo nun ay
malayong-malayo sa maligaya,
kapos sa saya,
kapayapaa’y nahahanap
mo lamang pag nandiyan ang
barkada

kalma,
inom ng tubig,
Eriko, kawayan ang bote ng alak,
pero huwag kang lalaklak

hinga,

ipanalangin mo na lang na siya’y
maging masaya,
dahil alam mo naman na
iyon ang tama.