To the quiet mind
That roams the street
Full of soul
And oh so meek

For when the noise
Of growth ensconces
Your feet remind you
That every step

Has
Lead
You
Onward.

you're so brittle
sometimes I feel stronger than that
but you make me seem like some
stained glass window in the belltower
of a church, you don't want to touch me
for the sake of a metaphor you heard once--
but I won't collect dust on your mantle
to satisfy your mirror tropes and sweet,
sweet, nothings.

that's exactly what they are, right? more than
once i've peeled back the ***** of a wound just
to make a point, to emphasize a passion, only to be met
with *is that any way to live? As if you were accosting me
in the street for the birds in the trees or dirt in the cracks
as if you were saying is that any way to be you?
I don't know, is it? Bare your heart! you tell me,
and I do, I bear it.

(breathe.)

I. Monday

Lethargy is your close friend
the weight of its hand on your shoulder
is both familiar and heavy
you want to push it away
but these days
you need company more than dignity

(in and out)

II. Tuesday

You always hate this day
your coffee always turn sour
and the sky always seems so bleak
you try to convince yourself
it does not have anything to do
with the ever absent table in front of you

(breathe.)

III. Wednesday

Scrolling down through facebook
you see pictures of your high school friends
you scowled and keep scrolling
the taste of toilet water and stale food
still ripe on your tounge
you grimaced
a therapy add pops up into your monitor

(the bile is normal. breathe)

IV. Thursday

You wonder about greek gods
about their passion that turned cruel
you also wonder why things are called things
and other inane things
you wonder a lot
why rice tasted nice
why blue sounds sad
why your brother never came home

(exhale and inhale)

V. Friday

Five, that's the number of people in your family
Your father, who always phones at midnight
your mother, who stayed in the kitchen weeping
your brother, who you never seen again
your sister, who wear short skirts to hide the bruises on her
you, who swallowd too many pills to remember how to be human

(don't try to stop breathing. It's important)

VI. Saturday

It's almost over now
you wrote down every word you remember
from their letter that they sent 2 years ago
before they became a mess of mutated cell
you keep telling your self they're still the same
you lie to yourself so you can sleep at night
denying that change is inevitable
you have mutated too
the infection were from yourself

(in out in out inoutinoutinout)

VII. Sunday

The sun is shining bright today
but the lights are blinding
and you burrow further into the blanket
not smiling as hands brushes your hair
they're the skeleton begging to be out
from the closet you locked them
you pursed your lips
Golden liqiud it is

(breathe and look up.)

drip upon a tired lake
bird sings out at an old man's wake
memory reborn for memory's sake
rumbles in a dormant soul
Sun peeks through a storm strewn sky
baby is sung a lullaby
heart holds a beat while it says goodbye
repent my prodigal son
None shall speak of this in lore
the end draws near this final war
the ripple shall never reach the shore
drip upon a tired lake

nagsimula sa simpleng kamustahan,
nagkakilala't nagkamabutihan,
'di inakalang lalalim,
ang pag-iibigang akala'y tunay.

dumaan ang ilang araw,
umaga, tanghali at gabi,
ikaw ang tanging kausap,
laging sa isip kahit 'di man matanaw.

habang tumatagal ay,
palalim ng palalim ang nadarama,
puso ko'y patay na patay,
sa'yong pagkataong ubod ng ganda.

ngunit sa isang iglap,
wala pang dalawang kurap,
ako'y iyong nilisan,
at 'di na binalikan.

'yun pala ikaw ay,
may iniirog nang kay tagal,
'di mawari ang nadama,
ako'y tila nasaktan.

akala ko ay ika'y akin,
'pagkat ako'y paga-ari mo,
akala'y parehas ng nadarama,
'yun pala'y nagkamali lamang ako.

kailan kaya kita malilimutan,
at 'di na iisipin pa,
inalay na pagmamahal,
akala'y masusuklian na.