Enjoy little things in life
While you can
Before ended by Death's knife
Interrupting plan

I used to hide all day
Escaping problems that pursued
Leaving behind obstacles in my way
I am the one surroundings exclude

There is no shortcut to happiness
On this earth tread upon
We pass on a great big mess
To bury after you're gone

I will claw through tunnels
Until I find rightful place
Help you with your struggles
Cradled in my embrace

Until my wick rekindles yours
Reanimates you
Makes heart pound
Will crawl through soil and explore
Dig you out from the ground

The tomb intended for me instead
Buried you to save my soul
To end madness in my head
Dying
Thoughts swallowing whole

I walk this road of ruptured dreams
Softness fading from fingertips
Savoring warm remnants of bright sunbeams
Light out of my grasp slowly slips

We are repeating yet fleeting,
estranged remnants,
together alone.
It was the strangest feeling.
To be married.
To be  chosen.
To share life.
The one place
you are supposed to matter most
only to become a ghost.
To be forgotten.
To disappear
into the wallpaper and tapestry,
not in a woven way
but in a painted to look like it way.
And if you stay long enough,
no longer reflected in their eyes,
you will forget yourself too.
The dissolution of my geography.
My fault lines slowly became riddled with fissures
until one day the area between my *******
collapsed in to a sink hole.

paano ko nga ba kinolekta
ang mga ala-ala?
sa piraso ng bato?
sa piraso ng kahoy o halaman?
siguro sa simoy ng hangin
at lasa ng pagkain?
hindi naman kaya
sa kalampag ng mga musika?
wala nga sigurong batayan
wala ring katapusan ang pagkolekta
ng mga ala-ala
nakagawian ko na itong gawin
noon pa
kaya kahit na ubos na
ang mga bato kahoy at halaman
kahit na said na ang bakas
sa simoy ng hangin
at lahat ng pagkain
manahimik man ang indayog ng musika
hangga't hindi pa nauubos
ang mga naipong lakas
na magdadala ng mga lipas na gunita
ng galit at takot
ng lungkot at tuwa
makababalik pa rin ako
saan man magpunta

There is no real end to anything...
Every thing remains in bits and pieces...
Whether it be the remnants of fallen leaves or the ancient ruins of a castle...
The charcoal still emits a hint of amber... Even when the fire has died down...
The heart still beats the tune of the faint remembrance of a loved one...

Some things always remain in small bites thus...
Maybe in the hope of wanting to be awakened...once again!

I trace my hand across
the expanse of my skin;
trying to feel any
remnants of you.

My fingers automatically
expand,
retract,
intertwine,
on its own accord
to the ghosts of you.

Can you feel me?

I ache.
I beg.
I bargain.
I persist.
I breathe.

I hope, still.

Villain. You have stolen my grace.

When I poise myself to smile and simper, your bitter shadow fills my mouth and makes me shudder.
When I ascend the steps to my royal quarters, I trip on the memory of your presence by my side.
When I lay in bed, artfully sprawled across the velvet sheet, your forceful weight crushes my limbs and my lungs.
When my eyelids flutter shut, intent on transporting me to dream-land, all I see is your divine, ethereal face.
When I fall in love, I am eager to forget and begin anew with my sweet knight in disguise, but your crestfallen expression slows my pace.

I may be free of you and your enchantment, your enthralling spell, but by the gods, Villain - I couldn't protect it all, and so you have stolen my grace.