He was a child
Loving life
Enjoying the world
His parents loved him
His peers were kind

He was a teen
Pondering life
Questioning the world
His parents fought with him
His peers were mean

He was an adult
Regretting life
Hating the world
His parents ignore him
His peers were drunk

He was alive
Scared of life
Leaving the world
His parents left him
His peers were sad

He is gone
Loving death
Forgetting the world
His parents despise him
His peers joined in

it's not the fact that you left me
but that the world didn't stop moving
when mine did ....
i know i hurt you but tell me was it so easy
so easy to give up on me ?
yeah i made mistakes ,and i was mean
but was it so easy to believe that it was just an act i put up to get your forgiveness .
i know used that word "sorry " a lot
but was it so easy to say, sorry no more
after those heart filled realisations
after  admitting to those mistakes .
tell me was it so easy to just walk away
its not the fact that you wont be the person that
i wake up to neither would you be the person i close my eyes on ,just the fact that i won't have anyone in the world to call mine now..
its not the fact that you are leaving me for good
its just that the world is still one piece while mine just shattered in front if my eyes .

she stood in front of the headstone,
the past whispering in her ears,
encouraging her to remember the unsaid.
her strained eyes rested for a second
as she heard footsteps quietly approaching.

she looked up at the last person she expected to see
his eyes were rimmed with pain, his face stained with tears
he took one look at her, and he crumpled to the floor.
she stared at his heart, which, for the first time,
was weakly beating on his sleeve.
dagger-like shards poked out
atop numerous bruises and scars.

she took him into her arms, closing her eyes,
caressing his heart with gentle fingers
after a while, she whispered, "you okay?" and he said,
"I saw you here for years, and I couldn't approach you.
You would leave, and I would visit this headstone
right after you, and the sins weighed me down.
I finally had the strength to approach you today.
You can leave me here - it's your choice."

she looked directly into his eyes, tears streaming down her face.
her voice broke as she said, "I'm not leaving you here.
You can release these sins and we can walk together.
You can heal your heart, and I will stand with you."
she felt his heart pounding, saw the doubt in his eyes.
she stood up and extended her hand towards him.
he placed his hand in hers and rose to meet her.
they quietly prayed in front of the gravestone,
then walked away, hands intertwined.

behind them, the spirit -
the inhabitant of the gravestone -
smiled and began her ascent,
surrounded by the purest,
whitest, all-encompassing light.

Sa panandaliang pagtigil ng mundo,
Hindi mapigilan ang mga tanong sa isipan,
Na para bang mga sasakyan sa EDSA,
Buhol buhol at walang kaayusan.

Ang mapait na naranasan ay iiwan na sa nakaraan,
Akapin ang kasalukuyan at kinabukasan,
Patawarin ang sarili sa nagawang kasalanan,
Bitawan ang sakit na nararamdaman,

Hindi para sakanya at hindi rin para sa iba,
Para sa'yo; Para tuluyan ka nang sumaya,
Mga gabing puro luha at kalungkutan,
Balutin sana ng umagang puno ng kasiyahan.

Nawalan ka man ng kaibigan o kasintahan,
Mga memoryang hanggang isipan nalamang,
Pulutin at dalhin sa susunod na kwento,
Dahil sadyang may mga kabanata na hindi para sa'yo.

I am once again
torn between forgiving them
and forgetting them

6:29 PM
7/11/20

Today, I helped my mother with her garden. I made the earth soft, I placed the seeds carefully, I added a little bit of the nutrient-rich soil. I tried to place the seeds upright in the ground. I’ve never done this before. When I ask her how I’m doing, she says I’m doing good. She says I plant them so carefully.

My wrists and back haven’t been doing very well these past few days, but I know that if I let her, my mother will sacrifice her entire body to her flowers. She’ll offer her exposed skin to the sun and her aching joints to the earth. Her muscles will cry and the tears make the earth richer.

The doctor said she needs to rest. Her knees, the bad arm, her back.
My body hurts sometimes, but all I have to do is stretch and rest and it goes away.

I have to plant the bell pepper seeds.
I have to sacrifice my own body to the sun, to the earth and the flowers. It is a duty to the selfishness of giving. I must because I want to.

What would I do if I saw you weep again? How could I bear to see anything keep you from joy for a even a single moment?
How incredible to see you after all of the sorrow. You touch the earth, you plant the seed. Every morning I walk outside to look at the flowers with you.

And this is my dark soil. This is my water.

I wake up. I see her dutifully tending to her garden. I put on my shoes.
I am the flower blooming with the love of a mother.

I forgive the fifth-floor window
who I once asked to swallow
me into the night.

I forgive the water who
once called out to me
when I walked above
its rushing currents.

I forgive the Aisle 10
in Home Depot
who once sold me
the razor blades
that kept my hoodie
on all summer.

I forgive the basement rafters
who once held the rope
that I planned to use
as my permanent escape.

I forgive the bathroom mirror
who once failed to disagree
when I sobbed to it
about the ugliness of
each feature on my face.

I forgive the scale who once
hurled numbers at me
without mentioning that
my weight was not
something to fret over.

I forgive the scars who
were once a release to me,
and who neglected to tell me
that they would not leave
even if I asked them to.

I forgive the pen whose ink
once helped write what I
thought would be my last words.

I forgive the doorknob who
once let me lock myself away
from everyone who loved me,
and who watched as I tried
to never come out again.

and above all,
I forgive the person
who I once hated most.

I forgive her for her anger,
and her hateful words,
and her nonstop cruelty.

I forgive her for
being the hardest person
I've ever had to forgive.

I forgive myself.

Rain is dramatic, but short lived-
storms half-hearted.
Sun shines strong and low
through art-work cloud, and
finger-print-blooms rock and sway
on a whispering green-leaf sea.

October 2020 is the hot-sweet-tea
left outside my room, after the row I caused
when I was 15.