There are days when I mourn for her, before she got too comfortable with her sadness, — before she became me.

If I were to love again,
there will be no more
sugarcoated words
only plain
and straight-to-the-point
conversations.
If I were to love again,
there will be no more
texting you every minute.
Instead,
I'll just hit you up
whenever I feel like it.
If I were to love again,
there will be no more
begging for your time
because I'll make sure
that this time
you're gonna
beg for mine.
If I were to love again,
there will be no more
cute dates
instead,
I'd leave your invite
on read
and for nothing,
I'd let you wait.
If I were to love again,
there will be no more
selfless thoughts
I won't care about you
if you don't care enough.
If I were to love again,
there will be no more
late night talks
I'd sleep just right before
you could even try to start.
If I was to love again
I won't make it
identical as how
I have loved before
because
If I were to love again —  
Oh,
I don't think I ever will.

Not
   like
      this.

—Thalia Bautista; I don't want to love like this

Mirror mirror on the wall
When will I be as fair as them all?
When will these eyes glimmer like stars?
When will this skin be as smooth?
When will this lips be as cherry-like?
When will this hair not be electrified?
When will these hands be worth holding?
When will this touch feel like the breeze in the morning?
When will I be, mirror on the wall?
When will I be as fair as them all?
When will this face I see
Reflecting in the mirror back at me
Be who she really desires—
To be a girl with a face pleasing to the eyes;
Someone who's irreplaceable, and one of a kind
When will she not get left behind?

So all I ask, mirror on the wall
When will she be as fair as them all?

Will you make me as fair as them all?

Words by Thalia Bautista

"Why do we keep on waiting for things that we know are not going to happen?"

"Because we're helpless. We tend to hope, regardless of all the contradictions. We wait because we want it so bad—so bad that we are willing to jump into nothingness than to believe it's non-existent. We choose to take an endless ride than to believe it's all over. We choose to walk on a tight rope not knowing how to balance, than to walk on plain ground but not taking risks.

We keep on waiting for them to love us—when their love for us does not even exist."

—Thalia Bautista

"The last time I broke someone's heart"

It was stupid;
It was staring at the night sky
Covered with rainclouds and lightning
Patiently waiting for a falling star
Despite the chaos we were in

It was reckless;
It was breaking the traffic rules
Heedlessly beating the red light
It was choosing to drive forward
Even when I knew it wasn't right

It was foolish;
It was picking up fragments of glass
Trying to mend what couldn't last
It was getting my hands scarred by trying to grasp
What I know I couldn't have

But in the end, it was selfish;
It was choosing happiness over pain
Because the last time I broke my heart
Was when I chose to never let anyone break me again

I like to beautify things. When I write my notes, I'd always put colors in them. I'd always trace the letters to make them look like calligraphy.

I like to beautify things. When I see unorganized thoughts on my notebook, I'd weave them together and sprinkle some new ideas and turn them into poetry.

I like to beautify things. If someone feels bad about something, I'd tell them the things that are beautiful about them. I'd tell them that they are enough. I'd make them smile, until they laugh, because that is beautiful.

I like to beautify things. Even though he makes me sad at night, I'd still look at his pictures and somehow, they make me feel okay. I like to beautify sadness. I find ways to distract the demons. I grasp his photograph and stare at it until I fall asleep.

I like to beautify things — things, people, feelings, emotions. I don't like seeing anyone feel less beautiful. I don't want seeing something less beautiful. Maybe it's because I lack beauty, and seeing others being beautiful somehow fills the gap.

I like to beautify everything — everything but myself.

—Thalia Bautista; Why am I not beautiful?

Here's to the writers—

You have the power to paint words
Into beautiful art—
To be able to touch a soul—
To touch one's heart

You can make the stormy sky blue—
Stop the waves from crashing to the shore
You can make all the withered flowers bloom—
Turn winter into summer, a glimpse of gold

You can make someone's dark day colorful—
Gather hope to put in between your words
Make them feel that they are understood—
That they aren't alone in this cruel world

You can mend someone's broken heart—
Put love in between your lines
Let them know that they are enough—
That being hurt is just a part of life

Yes—
We can make a whole new perspective—
We can create a world of our own
And no, we don't speak only for ourselves—
But also for all the lost souls

—Thalia Bautista; Just keep writing