you have me,
but i'm not sure
if i have you, though.

i paused.
it's thirteen minutes past twelve in the morning and i was on top of you. your steady breaths and the ticking of the clock was all i can hear. a sweat trickled down my bare chest as you stare longingly. the moans and the word 'faster' didn't fill the room anymore.

"what's wrong?" you asked.

every night is a bittersweet reality, something that i would think of as a chimera full of used underwear.  every night is a catharsis; i knew, the way 'babe' escaped from your lips arousingly when i go further tells me so. every night our souls would crash briefly, but every tomorrow i see myself on the mirror and the word 'temporary' is etched on my face. you ****** your way into my heart, that's what's wrong and i didn't even know it. i was too caught up with the thought of your tongue exploring my restless body.

you paused, placed me on your side, and stood up.

tonight, you smoked away the last stick of hope i had on the side of my bed; where you reside after everytime we did it. tonight, you're moving out.

you'll always have me, but i'll never have you, though.

sleep isn't for the weak.

sleep is for those who hear "I love you" on a regular basis. sleep is for those who can intertwine their fingers with their significant ones. sleep is for those who can feel the warmth of a hug. sleep is for those who have someone to stay up with them at night to talk about aliens, indie music and politics. sleep is for those who have someone to admire them, even at their bedhead. sleep is for those who feel content, comfort and worth.

sleep isn't for those who stay up at night waiting for a good night call. sleep isn't for those who wait for a reply to the message they sent 3 days ago. sleep isn't for those who write long-*** poetry to someone who won't even read them. sleep isn't for those who cry at night, wishing they were enough. sleep isn't for those who think they don't deserve it. sleep isn't for those who have loved and will never be loved.

*go to bed, self.

I am deaf.

I am deaf when people bring up a traumatizing or embarrassing moment and tease me about it; when people think it's okay because it's just a "joke."

I am deaf when people point out my insecurities; my crooked teeth, my unruly hair, my body and the scar on my forehead: the things I can't control about myself.

I am deaf when people use my gender against me, ostracize me on things because I am a girl; when they think I am only living to cook, clean and make myself pretty, when they use the line: "Kababae **** tao..."

I am deaf when people mock my faith and shame me for my principles, the things I believe in and what I fight for; when they say "eh di wow" "dami **** alam" or such.

I am deaf when people tell me they will leave or I should leave, saying I am "too much" or "I don't give enough;" when people make me feel inadequate and dismiss me over petty reasons.

I am deaf when people pick on me, use my past and mistakes against me; when people fail to see who I am, and what I am today.

**I am deaf, but my heart hears it all.

the world hated her laugh, it was incredulous. it sounded like a dying radio, waiting for its battery to be replaced.

she drenches her face of tears every night; wishing that things could be better tomorrow,
or the next day,
or the day after that.

she was taut and stood firm, but she trembled from time to time. her words were content, but her eyes speak otherwise.

the world hated her laugh, because no one can hear it anymore.

faint, slowly dispersing.