I thought you didn't like smokers
You stopped me everytime I started
I always understood why you did though
You hated the lingering scent of burnt cancer
You despised the fact I smelled like your father
When I went up close to kiss your cheeks
You didn't want me to leave you
Because you wanted to grow old with me

I stopped when you told me to
I threw packs in the garbage
I stayed away from my habit
All because I loved you
And because I didn't wanna hurt you
I couldn't bear the thought of you crying
At my bedside
As my lungs gave out
And I chose to stop turning my lungs black
So I could live longer
So I could marry you
So I could grow old with you

When he came along
I couldn't possibly think he would replace me
Even though you looked at him the way you did me
Even though I felt like a third wheel
Even though you talked about him to me
With hearts in your eyes
Mainly because he smoked
But he did replace me

What was the point of everything you told me?
Nov 24 · 79
It isn't so different
When I first saw you,
You took my breath away
You showered me with affection
And kind words
Things I was never used to

You held me
You kissed me
You made me feel fearless
Like the whole world was my oyster
You made me feel loved

You told me you loved me
Over and over
A kiss for each time you did
And you held my hand all the way through

Now when I see you,
The anxiety you give me takes my breath away
You shower me with death glares
And venomous words
Things that I was never used to with you

You stare in anger
You stare in hatred
You make me feel worthless
Like the whole world is closing in
You make me feel betrayed

You give me excuses
Over and over
A hiss each time you do
And you scream all the way through
It has been dark
It has been very dark
And I thought
That maybe
It was the end
For me

How was I going to go on?
I wondered
You were the brightest light
That my eyes had ever seen
And I followed you
Until you blinded me

I walked on and on
Not knowing the path
That I was going down
So I looked up
Even if the rays
Of your intensity
Still burned my irides

The stars were out
Was I ever enough?

It's just that I never felt
Like I was enough,
But you always told me I was
There was so much
That I gave
And I gave despite
My empty pockets
Or my depression
Or my lack of time
I gave all I could get my hands on
And you told me it was more than enough
And that I never had to do more

I couldn't ever give you the world,
But I tried so much to do it
I was giving you bits and pieces
So one day you would have been able to take them
And put them together to see it
I only did that because
It was all I could afford
And I would have given it in its entirety
If only I had the chance

I tried
I tried
I really tried
Believe me

I wanted to give you the universe
From the grains of sand
Which you hate so much
To the stars in the sky
That I have never seen
But you couldn't wait, darling

And when you got sick of me,
You told me I was never enough
You told me I never did enough
You made me feel
Like the world I was trying to give
Was just a moon
Compared to the vastness
Of the universe that was you

Darling, I have another question:
Did you ever love me the way I loved you?
A sequel I wrote when I was sad.

I'm not so sad anymore, really.

First post: https://hellopoetry.com/poem/1870358/darling-i-have-a-question/
Oct 18 · 112
rambling
here i am again
grasping at strings
longing for
nicotine
and
alcohol

asking myself
questions i can't answer
i don't know if i want answers
maybe i just want to ask questions

i'm longing for you
**** the nicotine and alcohol
i don't want an addiction
i just want to be calm
and look into your eyes
and sincerely tell you
that i love you
Why now?
Why now?
Why now?

I needed you the most right now
I needed your love
I needed your warmth
I needed to hear your voice
(but not in the way I did last night)

I wanted you to hold me
And tell me that everything
Would be fine
So that I could stop crying myself to sleep

I've cried myself to sleep
For the past four days
And I didn't want to tell you
Because I didn't want to bring you down

Why didn't you tell me that I wasn't enough?
Why didn't you tell me that I wasn't enough?
Why didn't you tell me that I wasn't enough?
Why didn't you tell me I wasn't enough?

I want to be enough for you
You always told me I was more than enough
You always did
Apparently I'm not
Sep 18 · 10.3k
Kapaguran
Wala ba akong karapatan mapagod?
Rinig na rinig ko ang hiyaw ng aking kaluluwa
HIGA KA, HIGA KA, HIGA
PIKIT KA, PIKIT KA, PIKIT
IDLIP KA MUNA, KAIBIGAN
Gustong-gusto ko, pero hindi pwede

Dinadaan ko na lang sa tula ang kapaguran ko
Dinadaan ko na lang sa tula ang sakit
Dinadaan na lang sa biro at libog
Sa halakhak at ngiti
Sa mga sigawan at kwentuhan
Sa kalungkutan at panloloko sa sarili
Ito'y ang aking araw-araw

HIGA KA, HIGA KA, HIGA
PIKIT KA, PIKIT KA, PIKIT
IDLIP KA MUNA, KAIBIGAN
Kay sarap isipin
Kay sakit marinig
Pero sana'y makahiga, pikit, at idlip rin

At kahit minsan sana'y
Maramdaman ko ulit
Ang tunay na kapayapaan
She's a sad excuse for a **** buddy
She shows up at my house when I least expect it
And thinks she can amaze me with her second rate *******
And her third rate kisses

Her lips taste like cigarette ash and old gum
Her ******* feel like sandpaper
And she never lets me use her *****
Just the ***
And usually she doesn't wash
But I **** her anyway because I need a release
I only feel worse after though
As if I used my shitstained ****
To sign a contract to be her *****

She can barely hold a conversation too
I ask simple questions
And she answers with **** laughter and
"You're so ******"
Never an answer from her
Just her being
Just my worthless being
Just her worthless being
Just my being

"I'll see you again next time"
She says, and I say
"Give me back my ******* keys"
And she laughs that **** laugh
"Fat chance, ******."
She says

I hate my anxiety
Yes. My anxiety is a sad excuse for a **** buddy.
Jun 6 · 580
Sensuous longing
I want to run my hand down your back
And feel your smoothness across the ridges of my fingertips
Once more

The smell of your hair lingers in the spaces between my fingers
The ends of each strand brushing my skin still haunts my forearms

My hips feel like your thighs are still there,
My spine still feels your ankles interlocked,
My tongue still remembers how yours tasted,
My teeth still feel your bottom lip in between

In your voice, I heard the angels of heaven sing;
And in your eyes, I saw its shining gates;
And in your eyes, I saw burning passion;
And in your eyes, I saw true love
My depression comes to my bed and gives me a warm embrace almost every morning
I try to wrestle myself out of its grasp, but it only grabs on tighter
Whispering in my ear, telling me that I don't need to leave
Telling me how useless I'll be if I stood up and tried to do anything
I try to fight but I'm frozen in place, forced to endure its tight hold
(On days that I do have the courage to fight, I fight and fight and fight
But end up giving up and giving in)
About three hours will go by while I wait for it to get sick of me and let go,
Two hours if I'm lucky (I'm usually not)
And when it does get sick of me, (if I'm lucky) it reaches into its pockets and throws a little bit of motivation my way
Then it leaves
And I expect it to happen again the next day
If I'm just as useless as I think I am, tell me
I can't keep parading around like I'm doing something right,
When obviously I'm not

I'm tired of not being helpful.
I am done with not caring.
I try to help and I do care,
But everything I do and everything I say
Dissipate into the air like cigarette smoke

I panic, I worry, I cry, I fear,
But nothing gets done.
Nothing gets done because my heart fills with all these emotions
That I end up screaming without me knowing it
That I end up screaming at everyone else Instead of screaming at ***
(Who deserves all the screaming I want to do for making me this way)

If I'm useless
Then I'm useless
No stopping that
I just wish
Someone would tell me the truth
Jan 29 · 271
Resting Pieces
Here lies your poet
Breathing and awake,
But without any signs of life

The deep hours of the night
Are a perfect simulation of oblivion
And the uncomfortable foam mattress
A suitable casket lining for the dead inside

I am a ghost to those who love living
Barely a breath in their lungs
Barely a word in their sentences
But merely a fraction of what I wish to be

Please make me part of it
With open arms and accepting hearts
Why do all of you resent my warmth?
Why make me feel unwelcome?

For now I stay dead, the way you all want me
Because this is all I can do
Break me no more
Because there is nothing of me left
Jan 1 · 460
Heroes
You once told me
That we would rise from the dark
Like a phoenix in its own ashes
And I believed you

You talked about the beauty of the past
Of caves and of their drawings
How the past calls us to use it
A fiery sword to lead us to the light
And I believed you

You showed me that my art could be more
That there should always be meaning
That there should always be soul
And so I gave my art more life
More soul
And I believed in you

Each line you drew
Each black acrylic spiral
Each word you wrote on canvas
Were similar to mine, in a way
The way the words repeated over and over
Were similar to mine
Were similar to mine
Were similar to mine
And I believed in you

Each line you drew
Each black acrylic spiral
Each word you wrote on canvas
Were similar to mine, in a way
But yours were never yours to begin with
They were Basquiat's
They were Basquiat's
They were Basquiat's
And I couldn't believe it

You showed me that my art could be more
That there should always be meaning
That there should always be soul
And so here it is
With more soul than you will ever have
I hate that you made me believe in you

You talked about the beauty of the past
But never talked of the horrors of your own
And now approaches the fiery sword
To strike you down like the demon you are
And I believe you deserve to rot

You once told me
That we would rise from the dark
Like a phoenix in its own ashes
And I believed you
But now I believe that you don't deserve to
*******, Rocky
Oct 2017 · 320
October 13
"Good morning, sir"
He said as I fixed a rainguard
Back unto my car
I froze in place
And he stood in his

I could feel grief in the air
Accompanying this old man
And I stared

"I am a garbage truck driver
My wife died, you see
She used to sweep the street
Around here
Maybe you noticed her
Once or twice"

He shook a crumpled sheet of paper
Filled with bills
Twenties, fifties, and hundreds
And he spoke again

"It's been two weeks
I don't have the money
To bury her"

He said it so casually
His voice was like
A broken record
To him
Probably

But somehow there was still pain

I handed him some money
He bowed
Thanked me
Walked away

And I stood there
Frozen
Oct 2017 · 459
October 11
So what did you do before this?
I asked the driver
"I drove trucks.
Now I drive people to places"
I sat and listened
As the radio melodies faded
And as the beeping
And the woman's voice
From his smartphone
Began to sound like silence

"My father drove trucks
I watched him drive
Day in and day out
I watched him drive so much
That when I was 12
I grabbed the wheel
And did his job for him"

And so we talked
Passing green lights
Stopping at the red ones

Finally,
The car came to a halt
I handed him my money
And told him to drive safely

That's when I realized
Some men are meant for some things
I can hear the river's current
From where I'm seated
And I can hear the ******* music
Playing some few blocks away
The night has its ways
Of not giving you peace
Whenever you need it

The plants flow down the river to receive their dark embrace,
And it fills me with envy because they recieve nightly
What I have always asked for

Life, to me, is torture
A there and back again adventure
Of misfortune and self-doubt
And I choose not to live a life like this
But it is given to me against my will

I wish *** were real so I could have someone to blame
Unfortunately, I can only blame myself
For all the shortcomings,
Anxiety,
Doubts,
And **** luck

All I can do is self-medicate
With things that are not medicine
Things that do not cure
But things that delay
And delay
And delay
Like AIDS and ******
Except it isn't

I want to be freed from this life
This there and back again adventure
Of misfortune and self-doubt

Maybe one day
I'll flow down life like the plants on the river
And receive the dark embrace
That I've always wanted
I should **** myself
Jul 2017 · 279
Kiss
While the cold, golden **** of dull temptation
Slowly fills up the acidic pool of my empty stomach
I pray hard for even the littlest of light
As tears roll down my face
I pray so hard
That I forget which *** I am praying to

I fall deeper into the abyss once again
And feel cold hands gently caress my face
"I have brought you the light you long for."
She says
But I know not if she is the answer to my prayers
And I know not of this light she brings

She comes to play when I am ill
She comes to flirt, but never stays
Some days I wish she would
Sometimes I wish she'd kiss me
And end all of my suffering

When she leaves,
The sorrow in my heart grows greater
When she leaves,
The weight on my shoulders, she brings with her
But I know one day
She will kiss me
And I won't be ready
Jun 2017 · 363
Wide awake in bed at 4 AM
They pour out and foam up at the bottom
The way waterfalls do
As they leave my lips
The sounds they make as they crash
Into the waters below
Are like the bloodcurdling screams of little girls
When the fires in their homes blacken the air
With smoke unlike the gray cigarette smoke
That they are familiar with
The smell of "home" in some way
The smell of hugs
And kisses
And love

Fear is all there is when they come out to play
They tug at ears and pierce them unsavorily
Leaving holes in places you never wanted
Cry all you want, but the scars they leave are scars
Like on your wrists and on mine
Except they don't fade
And they never will
But one day they will open up again
And bleed like they're brand new

They tell me they'll make it all be alright again
And they phase through blades like ghosts
Smoothly and gracefully at the price of my sanity
I don't want to do this anymore
I don't want to keep doing this
I'm tired of lying
I'm tired of lies

Maybe I'll find the strength
To give the truth a shot
One of these days
Pass, people, pass
People pass my field of vision
Different people
Some smart, some dumb
Mostly people
Sometimes a dog
Sometimes a cat
A few birds here and there
But mostly people
Old people
Young people
Mostly disgusting people

People like the young people
Who go home to their disgusting houses
And their disgusting families
To eat their dinner
And after
(On some nights)
Mommy and daddy
Discuss politics
Over a bottle of red wine
While the TV soap operas cry
About a gangster's child or whatnot

The trees dance as I think
As I think about the young people
The disgusting young people
The trees dance as the people pass
Dance, trees, dance
Pass, people, pass

People like the old people
Who work at dead-end jobs
And those with non-dead-end jobs
The ones who legally buy alcohol and smokes
And pay disgusting bills
And pay off disgusting loans
And disgusting mortgages
While they drink their alcohol
While they smoke their cigarettes
And think about bills, loans, and mortgages
About politics and where they stand
About the gangster's child on TV
And they talk about the bills, loans, and mortgages
Politics too
To their wives or husbands or kids or selves
As the TV drones on about the gangster's child

The trees stand as I think
As I think about the old people
The disgusting old people
The trees stand as people pass
Stand, trees, stand
Pass, people, pass
Apr 2017 · 965
Final Frontier
The phases of matter all turn into one
When her lips touch mine
It burns like a thousand supernovas
And freezes like the vaccuum of space

The stars spill bright light through the invisble river
That holds no air in the darkness

The cheek of her face brushing mine
Fills me with the feeling
Of my heart when I see crescent moons

I can't wait to float away
Into the bright swirling stars
In the distance
With nobody but you

And maybe when we do that
We'll feel the stars pull us back
Like on starships
Much can happen
In the space
Between the marks
Of the seconds
On a clock

The world could turn
Into a murky brown puddle
Of **** and shitstains
That dirties the boots
Of all the people
On the way to work
Or home to the wife
And twelve kids

The room with white walls
Slowly but surely
Turns to one with black walls
That sweat dark pearls
That melt the doorknob,
Block the windows,
And cover the door

The bubbles in the bath
Burst and leave clear water
That hold your floating filth
In microscopic specks
And the flickering light
Flirts with you
To dip your head and fall asleep
In the fading warmth
Based on some lines of The Crunch by Charles Bukowski
Maybe she sees
Gentle rays of the sun
Glimmer from my face
Just like how I see her:
The light in the darkness
Of life's obscure fog

I wonder if she feels
The warm summer breeze
That would slowly blow
Upon her soft cheeks
Whenever I speak
The same breeze I feel
When she tells me
Nothings and somethings

I hope she feels
The slight glow
Of white moonlight
When my arms wrap around her
The very same glow
Whenever her arms
Lock themselves behind me
Sending me a message
To never let her go

I wish she forgets seeing
The heavy rains
That flood the roads on my face
Whenever I asked
If I were enough for her
Or if I were too much to handle

I wish she understands
The cyclones in my head
That clap thunder and flash lightning
Whenever the anger in me
Boils the chaotic saltwater
And creates tsunamis
In the vast ocean of my mind

I wish she forgives me
For the hailstorms in my words
That fall to the ground
And break like glass shards
That shatter windows and roofs
And car windshields and windows

I am a force of nature
Feb 2017 · 565
A quick drive back home
The street is dark
Yet still visible
Here on the overpass

And yellow lights
Unevenly dot
The concrete and steel
Statues made of rooms
That stand blocks and blocks
Away

All I hear are the sounds
Of my engine humming
Like angered bees
Or silenced jackhammers

These are simple nights
In the "great" city
Nights of silence
Nights of calm
Nights of happiness
Despite being alone
Feb 2017 · 641
Darling, I have a question:
Am I enough?

It's just that I never feel
Like I'm enough
It's like there's so much more
That I can do
But can't
Because of
My empty pockets
Or my bursts of depression
Or my rage toward the past
Or whatever else

I'm sorry if I can't give you the world in itself
At this very moment,
But I'm giving you bits and pieces
So that one day you'll be able to take them
And put them together to see it

I'm trying
I'm trying
I really am trying
Believe me

I want to give you the universe
From the grains of sand
Which you hate so much
To the stars in the sky
That I have never seen
Just you wait, my love
Jan 2017 · 777
12 o' Clock Syndrome
Late nights haunt me
With memories of old conversations
With people I used to know

I remember the ways
I used to look at them
And how dumb I was
And how dumb they were

The names and faces
Old friends and would-have-been lovers
Ring and ring into my head like church bells
Before the Sunday mass would start

They echo in the halls of my mind
Like noise in school corridors
Or cars honking in parking lots
Or even guns at a shooting range

I live with these ghosts
Who sing about the friendly insults
And misunderstandings
And shattered hearts

May *** be with me.
Jan 2017 · 655
Tequila
Gold, Glory, and ***
The devil's water can guarantee you at least two of these.
I have seen gold and glory, but I have not once seen *** whilst indulging the devil's drink.
The devil takes the night when I drink his golden **** of dull temptation leading me down into a spiral pathway of my own rise and fall
I see myself atop the world as I text you paragraph after paragraph of how much I love you, how I want to spend my life with you, how I want you to feel, and how our future would be.
While you're asleep, of course. It's at least 2 AM.
I text and text and text like a creepy Romeo to an unaware Juliet. I await your reply as the alcohol races through my blood, replacing all of the reason from my system.

The devil is a sly, cunning fox for convincing me to humor him by choking down glass after glass of his chosen poison.
My throat is burning at this point, but I am coaxed into having more. There is no stopping the act, there is no need to.

I am at peace while *** sleeps and leaves me to create my own destinies. I text you again to the tune of another glass. I text you again to the tune of another glass. I text you again to the tune of another glass. I see the devil cheer me on. Blurry and dark, but I see him cheer me on.  I try to text you again to the tune of another glass, but the bottle has run dry. I find myself a comfy spot on the floor and let the night take me away

And I awaken hungover to the tune of "I'm sorry. I think we should just be friends."
July 4, 2016
Jan 2017 · 788
It's the little things
The way she smiled
At the sight of
Pretty glass bottles
And things like honey
Always amused me

She sees so much good in this world
And she is slowly teaching me how to
Jan 2017 · 454
Instability
Three knives
In a triangle
On my back

Mind
Body
Soul

Mind is a mess
A rip in a tea bag
Where all the leaves
Fly wildly
Like birds to a gunshot

Body is a temple
One I have desecrated
With **** graffiti
And human ****
And posters
Of corrupt
And desperate
Politicians

Soul is black
Like sewer grime
Smells like it too
It's putrid
It's disgusting
It's not worth anything

There is no balance
Jan 2017 · 317
Lights
The white LEDs shine bright
Like the unwanted pseudo-stars they are

The living room that houses the sofa I am lying down on
Has white walls that reflect the bulbs' light
Almost as if they were mirrors

The lights hit my face the way lights hit faces,
In less than a snap of the fingers,
It still feels like it's dark, to be frank

It's the kind of darkness you experience
When a blanket is over your head
While you're camping on a starless, moonless night
With only the tent floor as your sleeping bag

You feel the earth stabbing you in a billion different points
As the cold slowly freezes your fingers into submission
And the darkness you see is the darkness only the ones who have gouged their eyes out can describe
The pitch black of all the pitch black

The lights hit my face now like an oncoming train,
Yet I see darkness emanate out of the bulb like splashing waves on a beach
Jan 2017 · 615
thoughts over tea
To be honest,
I was always quite scared
At the thought of meeting you.
Blood used to rush through my body
Whenever I thought of breathing the same air
In the same room as you.

I'm glad you pushed me to come
Because you gave the bitter, black coffee
A few tablespoons of sugar.
Jan 2017 · 596
Rooibos
I'm waiting for my tea to arrive in this hotel lobby.
The slow piano music playing in the background
Is more familiar than it should be.

I should be calm, but all of the couples around me
Are exchanging sweet nothings and sweeter kisses
And it makes me jealous
Because I wish you were here
So we could do the same.

Tea is here, love.
Dec 2016 · 262
December 27
last night, I lost respect for my father.
i looked up to him,
once upon a time,
but all that is gone.
******* him.
******* his arrogance,
******* his anger,
******* the alcohol in his blood,
******* my guts to tell him about all of it

and last night, he turned I to i
as all of the confidence in me broke
as he told me i was ungrateful
(grateful for what? his ******* drunk ***?)
as he told me he did his best to understand me
(he never did)
as he struck my arms and my chest
as he grabbed me by the fabric that covered my shoulder
as his drunk tears went down his drunk face in his drunken frenzy

i'm sorry
i said
"*******"
he said back
i'm sorry
"*******"
he said again
"Thank you for embarrasing me"
he said
and i told him he was welcome
if he wouldn't hear my apologies,
maybe he could take his "*******"
and shove it right back up his ***
for being the self-righteous **** he was
"SO I'M THE *******?"
he screamed into my face
and every fiber of me wanted to say yes,
but i told him what he wanted to hear
he told me he was holding back his anger
but i wouldn't care if he didn't

he told me to fight him
man to man
as the sounds of my mother's cries echoed into my left ear
and as the feeling of my brother's arm warmed my left shoulder,
but i wouldn't
because i was better than him
in the sense that i wouldn't let my emotions
get the better of me
unlike my days in school from first grade to tenth.

last night, my mother cried on my shoulder
and told me she was proud of me
and told me i was a good son
and told me never to marry
and told me to never be like my father
(i never did want to be like him to be honest)
i will never be like my father
i will never be
and if ever i do turn out like him
then ******* me.
Dec 2016 · 268
Dreams in a cold room
I wish I were somewhere else
Somewhere not of the world
Somewhere peace
Somewhere love
Somewhere smiles are not false

Nirvana maybe
But the chaos here
does not permit passage
Fay gave me the title.
The Christmas spirit has dissipated into the atmosphere. The jolly tunes come out of the speaker only to be turned into sad sounding drones. Every note becomes sadder and sadder and the lights grow dimmer and dimmer. It's like watching an old TV shut off, the sides fade into the middle and eventually all you have is blackness. You see your dark reflection on the convex glass. Growing old is watching a TV turn off. The happy cartoon faces slowly fade and you're faced with a reflection of yourself. What do you do now? 

The happy cartoon that is the Christmas spirit has faded into the abyss and all you're left with is yourself. You float in the dark nothingness that is the act of being self-aware. Christmas is just another day on the calendar. Say goodbye to the cheer and the snowmen and the gingerbread houses and the Santa hats. Say hello to life.
Dec 2016 · 396
True Purpose
I went to the flat today
The pink light from the red curtains
Colored in the white walls
That held your new life in pictures
And the bed where we laid
Reciting lost poetry to each other
At four in the morning
Contained the same mess
That was made the day you left

I stood still in the middle of everything
And took the deepest breath I could
Before having to go back into the ocean
We all call "the real world"
In that breath, I heard your soft voice
Whispering sweet somethings into my ear,
I felt your hands slowly grip mine,
And the feeling of your loving eyes staring
Into every fiber of my lonesome being
Gave me goosebumps

In that moment, I was calm again
My mind was once again at peace
After all the hours of screaming
After all the days of torture
"****." I said
"I almost forgot to bring home the soy milk"
Dec 2016 · 326
A Short Call
Less than two minutes
I heard your voice
For less than two minutes today
I hope the sound of it rings in my head
For the remaining 1438 and a half
I miss the air in your apartment
The scent of you and city air fills it up
The calm and the chaos in every inhale

I miss the warm days with cool breeze
Where your lips descended upon mine
And our tongues ran in each others' mouths
Like wild horses over grassy hills

I miss the cool nights with warm breeze
Where our minds ascended into the stars
While bottles of craft beer and odd mixes
Gradually declined into emptiness

I miss you.
Dec 2016 · 532
Late December Woes
The darkness disguised as light that is life creeps slowly into my spine like water dripping down a rain gutter after a storm. The reality in the air fills my lungs like twenty cigarettes all smoked in a dimly-lit stairwell on a Tuesday afternoon. I exhale as hard as I can, but the reality ceases to leave my being. It carves into my windpipe like a tiger's paw, ripping it into shreds as gravity pulls it back down.

I take a look at the calendar. A calm font reads December 24. I feel nothing. There is no cheer or happiness lingering in the supposedly cool December breeze. It used to fill the air with the scent of gingerbread and mint, but all there is now is the smell of rotting garbage, sun-dried ****, and the occasional stench of ****.

False smiles are painted across coffee shop windows. Bright lights that distract you from the world are wrapped around the trees. Mary gives birth to Jesus on each manger atop each building. It all still feels blank. The magic is gone. The false smiles frown at me. The luster of each bulb of each string of light has faded into a bland dullness. What lies atop the buildings are dead eyed statues.

Where has it all gone?
it's a hot day
in mid-December
as well
the world
(as we know it)
has gone
even more
topsy-turvy

Decembers used to be cold
like heartbreak after a date
or a cold shower at 4 a.m.

there isn't much around
besides the ceiling, the floor,
and the four walls that confine me
while the not-so-soothing sounds
of motorcycles pass by
my cage with silver bars
that i like to call my house

i miss you
and the summer's warmth
you bring when nights are cold
and the October breeze you have
when the days are hot
A response to Fay's "I'm talking to you from the jade market". Give it a read. ***, I miss her.
Dec 2016 · 567
Monotony
I am back in the cycle.
The back and forth
And back again
Of the silent non-silence
Of this filthy city life.

I wake up in the bed
I laid in the night before,
Rise up to take a liquid ****
And retreat once again
Into the blanketed dome
That is my mattress.

The sun shines through
The cracks in the seemingly
Single piece of colored cloth
That we call curtains
And seep in through the fabric
Of the actual single piece of cloth
That we call blankets.

When the ****** star's light
Is more than bearable, I take away
The blanket from my face
And face reality as it is
From the cool and calm not-peace
That is my room covered in sunlight.

A few more hours
Worth of wallowing in not-happiness
Would be very sufficient
To start the "day".
A few more hours
Adjusting to the hellish yellow light
That blinds my eyes,
But frees them from the darkness
At the same time.
A few more hours
To plan the next few hours
Only to not follow the plan
And once again act on impulse
The same way I did yesterday.
Dec 2016 · 839
A bit of nonsense
Come with me
Through the noise
And the disarray

The deafening tones
Of screaming children
And dying adults
(Millennials probably
We both know
That they never
Shut up)

The world
Around ourselves
Is a path
Of broken glass
Atop coal embers,
So I beg you
To hold my hand
And walk through them
With me
Dec 2016 · 296
Uncertainty
I fear
But I do not know what I fear
Maybe it's
Late nights wasted with people
And thoughts of people
Who do not matter
And who will never matter
Or only mattered once
It is human nature to desire death
Especially in this day and age

The world around us has become a collection of instants
From the messages we write up to the noodles we eat

Life goes so fast that we absorb so much at once
Our minds are filled with milleniums
Of words and dates and names of people we will never meet
And knowledge of places we will never go to

Humans live too fast
Our minds faster than our bodies
And when our minds live life to the fullest
We are left with only our bodies
How would it be like to die in a gutter?
A gutter made of cold pavement
That slowly grows warmer and warmer
As I lay down and feel the life drain out of the pores of my skin
A gutter with stagnant water turned green
By whatever the **** makes stagnant water green

Some nights I see myself dying in a gutter
I feel the warm blood rush out of my mouth
And the icy gutter slime on my right shoulder
Both of them cooling my skin, one more than the other

I watch cars full of people
Who don't care enough to help a dying man
Pass by my side as I die sluggishly
With their rubber necks and undeaf ears

I don't want to die in a gutter
I would never want to die in a gutter,
But if there is peace and silence in dying in one
Let the cars pass
Dec 2016 · 316
Fly, you fools!
To escape
The horrors
And reality
Of life
Is enjoyable

May it be
Roadtrips
And city lights
Or highway reflectors

May it be
In relics
In museums
Or paintings
In hallways

May it be
In dark movie theaters
On summer nights
Or in sunlit parks
On summer afternoons

May it be
With the love of your life
On condominium balconies
Or on soft beds

Escape
The reality
Of the cruel world
Dec 2016 · 636
Solitude
Beams of morning light
Force their way into my room
The noises from the cars
And motorcycles and the TV
Blast their way into my ears
But I stay strong

I am not ready for a new day
I do not want the sunlight or the cars or TV
I am not ready for a new day
And I would rather stay under my blanket
Credits to Fay for the title
I want to choke you till the life leaves your eyes
The sound of you trying to force air into your lungs
Is a sweeter fantasy
Than me wanting to jab myself in the neck with a pen
Or stab my eyes out with a knife

The dream that is your death
Is sweeter than my suicide
More eye-opening
Than my dark desire
To be in a casket

As the days pass,
My anger only grows
And the dreams in my head
Stay dreams
This poem is dedicated to the people in my life who have given me nothing but grief and annoyance. I hope you people enjoy this. *******.
Nov 2016 · 527
Words on skin
If I could tattoo my poetry to my skin, I would
I would show them my word-riddled wrists
Where the scars used to be
And the prosaic verses sprawled on my neck
Where I planned to loop the rope

If my poems were good, I would tattoo them on my skin
Sadly, all I have are a sophomoric amalgamates of odd words
That make dead poets turn in their graves
Oct 2016 · 780
Tagaytay
The cold mountain air nips at my cheeks
While I sit on the cold grass of this *****
I can feel the chills poke my skin like needles
And crawl down my spine like spiders
But the chills aren't worse than the cold feeling in my chest
Because you aren't here by my side
Oct 2016 · 640
Vacation
Be strong, my dear
Because I know you can do it

The demons crawl up
From the ground below
And steal the air you breathe
But take it back from them
Because it's rightfully yours

Be strong, my dear
Because I know you can do it
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