kumakaripas ang takbo ng hangin.
lumaho na ang kisap ng mga bituin.
marahil ganito talaga kapag sabik na sabik and damdamin -
kaluluwa ay tataas ngunit unti-unting bababa rin.

i've seen my lover's death
countless of times
her unconscious figure lain;
pooling blood the color of her hair --

rewinding time's arms
my fingers shall bare pain
to taste the sweet petrichor
that surrounds her once more.

to die is vain
and to love an honor -
prickly rose to a chest

i keep chasing the hour you've gone.

neither nightmare nor a dream
stained in mauve are the back of my eyelids
hued with olives floral fadings be
i wash my crime off, one spatter at a time
and erase any false pretenses.
oh how i long for a canvas that's mine
a pulse to be uphold with nails of luster
to an empty museum dark and forlorn
smile. flash. take heed. don't ask for more.

preserve the art forever.

“love isn’t easy” they say;

but it seems to go smoothly when you’re falling
free and unharnessed,
into pools of love
where smiles naturally find its way
and everything feels right —

until gravity shifts and tides change
and trust is lost and the pain remains
realizing your hands and chest are empty,
when there’s nothing left but that sinking feeling
that never leaves.


and they were right.

Love is nothing like what is shown on-screen;
Bouquets lavish, flowers never-dying
Every conflict resolved as if foreseen
Hearts so warm, characters end up singing.
The love that's beyond cameras and lights
Is love embellished with imperfections -
Behind their flowery, script-induced lines
Lies no such true feelings and emotions;
Though love may not be sunny days in June
But the darkness in the sky at winter,
Having real intent behind "I love you"s
Are lines more worthy to be delivered.
Love is nothing like what is shown on-screen;
But more deserving of happy endings.

i feel the surface of my lips go dry
the lips that used to call you so much
& i look for you in my dream unknowingly
& i still call out your name as i slumber -

maybe it's become a habit instead
i live, everyday, unable to erase it
the sound of your name i want to forget

but think it’s a lie that i want to forget you.

how fascinating it is
to read about things that exist
within the vastness of the universe,
where though one looks up to the highest skies,
they cannot be seen by the naked eye;
where its existence would only be known to man
through its discernible temperatures,
unimaginably scorching —

& how dismaying it is
to look down with eyes, unbearably naked
at where the spaces in between our fingers are filled by one another,
where the existence of two clasped hands
is discernible to any man with sight;
but unlike the entities in the galaxies,
there is no warmth at all within.

how amusing it is
to compare us, insignificant beings
to greater things lying within the universe,
to rethink the clear difference
between what is visible, and what can be felt;
a reminder that what once was scorching
could die out in a blink of an eye.

and the world would continue to turn on its axis as if nothing happened.

(how utterly disheartening it is, indeed
to slowly step back and realize
what truly exists, and what only existed
at the speed of light.)

only the feeble-minded
refuses to regard time
as restraint.
only with ear ringing, heart pounding
will you realize

its already too late.

fingertips on mine
tell me that you'll wait for me
dawn breaks; the day comes.

blazing wintertime
a white, silent wolf weeping
at plane's betrayal.