I was taught
Even as a little girl
That giving is what we called "loving"
So I grew up
Loving and loving
And even though there was
Nothing left of me
For me  
Even though
All I could give
Was shattered pieces of me
A crumbling heart
A black and stormy soul
I gave
And still called it love
Never mind if it was toxic
Never mind if it was the brokenness
I was taught
Even as a little girl
That giving is what we called "loving"
So I grew up
Losing myself

you always told me
you gave me no reason
to want to die
but the truth was
you gave me all the reasons
but i told myself
more often than not
that there wasnt
so i tricked myself
that dying was not the answer
but it always was
it wsa the answer that screamed
to me
whenever i felt unworthy
whenever i felt hopeless
so when i felt numb
it became an echo
a whisper that
i followed as i
jump from the topmost building
and the only thing left
for me to hear
was my mouth screaming for help
or rather
your name as you watch me fall.

i wasnt happy
because i wanted to
i was happy
because i had to
and i didnt want that
and thats what
made me insane.

Suicidal thoughts are poetic
The slitting of wrists
Ropes tied around your neck
The need to put that one foot forward
Into the pit that ends everything;
Hopes, dreams, wishes and nightmares combined

Suicidal thoughts are poetic
The feeling of drowning
A knife pierced to your heart
The want to simply put that one foot forward
To the center of the road that starts everything;
Sorrow, regret and sympathy combined

Suicidal thoughts are poetic
The endless hallucinations and insomnia
Thinking of what would happen if you died
The uncontrollable yearning to simply put that one foot forward;
To the darkness of closed eyes that makes everything;
Problems, unanswered questions and contentment combined

Suicidal thoughts are so poetic
That it comes to a point
That all of it
Suddenly and inconspicuously
Becomes true

i dont believe in love
not anymore
for ive been treated so  unfairly
every time i
hoped
wanted
needed and simply
ached to feel love
i dont believe it anymore
for what i see
or whatever meets the eye
is the mere obligation of
giving and taking
making and breaking
and most especially
mistaking love
for the ignorant
things we thought should be called love.
im tired of love
and how it so non-existent
im tired of love
and how i still hope there is
im tired of love
its own entirety
and lastly
im tired of love
and how its continuously uncalled for.
i dont want to love
i dont want to be loved
i just want to breathe and not live anymore
for living entails feeling
and feeling just seems to always
find its way of breaking me
and thats so tiring
i dont want that anymore.
i dont believe in love
i dont believe in you
not anymore.

it feels like im drowning
yet no one is reaching for me
and whats worst
is that im not even trying

i dont think i can do this anymore
i dont think i can still pretend
that im alright
that im okay
because im not
and i think
i never will be

it was said that we are more closer to 2050 than we are to 1990. It has the same gap of 30 years and yet both have a different feel towards each other. the past seems so far off because it had lacked what the future only had: hope.

yesterday seemed forgotten but tomorrow was an endless thought. what was done before could never be changed. the things we are about to do hereafter could still be.

now where was the concept of now? it is not forgotten nor is it a thought. it is just “now”. no thoughts no lingering feeling. it is now. and perhaps that is why we dont think about what happens. we think about now.

and that is what we should focus on.

now.

the mind is a restless soul. it speaks and it listens.

but it will never feel. that is why it is restless.

the mind cannot know contentment. it cannot know satisfaction. it could only resent but it could never forgive.

the mind is a restless soul. it speaks and it listens.

but the mind could never tell what the heart only knows.

please come back
running to me
as if youve never been gone
please look into my eyes
and show to me
i'll see you again

let me cry
let me break
let me show that i am weak
because i''m never that strong when it comes to you

let me fall
let me shudder
let me show that i fear
because you are that one thing that i want to see again

is my conscience
then
who’s listening?

are you afraid of commitment?
or
are you just afraid
of wasting your time?

do they make you swoon?
do you sigh at the sight of them?
do you think of them often?
are they a part of your prayers?
do you like their smile?
would you want to see their smile?
do you stare at their eyes?
is your worth not being judged?
does it make you think of other people to replace?
do they make you smile?
do they reciprocate what you feel?
are they open-minded?
do they make you love love?
do they make you feel different?


and lastly,
they dont make you question about love.

He always told me he "loved" me.

But we were wrapped in white sheets and his hands were all over me

His lips lingered trails on my neck as his eyes were turning a shade darker

He always told me he "loved" me

When we were both intoxicated and that he was in desperation for touch

But the worst part wasn't the one sided pleasure
The worst part was that i believed.

Stranger: Hi

You: what do you hate

Stranger: People who lies

You: thats a sad truth

Stranger: How 'bout you?

You: i hate it when i feel like i left somebody behind

You: or when theres not enough love in this world to heal it back

You: i hate it when somebody feels lonely

You: or they feel what i feel

You: i hate it when theyre unhappy

You: i hate it when i cant fix a broken soul

You: and whats ironic is i cant even fix mine either