To my innocence, naivety, and viridity
Childish ways, high school days.
A mere three weeks, I say good bye
With a cry, a tear, a sigh.

To blue slacks, and a polo
Black shoes and white socks
To my pink skirt, and white blouse,
Pleated, soon to be folded.

To the OHS rooms of our first and second years:
The broken windows, and tantrum-kicked chairs,
The broom box behind the spider webbed chalkboard,
Messages on the wall hand printed in red and green.

The broken doorknobs, and broken floorboards,
Carved armchairs, and eaten chalks,
Missing brooms and dustpans and garbage cans and rugs
That show up in who knows where
Stolen by jani- we know who.

The witnesses and victims
To our random laughter (from some Chinese-looking girl’s corny joke).
Our random tears.
Our not so random learnings.
The pillars of our memories.

To the PF rooms of our third year:
The storage room turned gigantic garbage can and dressing room (maybe because ours keep being stolen)
The exploding socket causing sparks to fly (and us to fly away from it), and
The amazing “alambre” lock; who knows who installed (as if that could keep us away).
The earthquake resistant rooms would be missed.

To the New High School Building of our last years:
The kicked door (not our fault!), and cancerous blinds (like hairs falling after chemo),
The jigsaw floor (not sure if better than broken floorboards),
The “Halayan 2012”, and
The mind-boggling “no key needed” lockers.


The UTMT with its fair share of mango sentences,
The old guidance office now turned “tambayan”, and
The Computer lab with its fragile yellow chairs and bruised bums.

To Ibong Adarna plays, and the half cooked uncooked Teriyaki,
Generation X (and Generation NOW! and Generation Facebook),
Jai ** dances, and cheerleading,
Kalagon Kamo Namon,
And Mickey Mickey Mouse Kabit-bintana memories.

To the NikJep Tandem,
Kanlaon Boys Behind the Flowers,
D.H.A.I.N.G. (not sure if they remember this),
Fred vs Gino version
And DewBheRhieTart.

Keep the volcanoes of memories burning.

To blue paint, and blue shirts,
And Geometry teaching us
“There are a lot of solutions to a problem.
We just have to find one that suits us.”

To saying “***”,
And cooking imbutido.
And wearing (for some designing) reduced,
Reused, recycled clothing.
And dissecting.
And parrot-Filipino teachers (she gave me P30 for load though).

Keep the river of rumination flowing.

To being scared of one whole sheet of paper,
Two becoming one,
Party rocking to make up for the tears,
And knowing we should have won.

To the hand sanitizer girls,
The Cream-o-holics,
The Canterbury Crusaders,
The Valenciana eaters.

May our tree of friendship continue growing.

To our winnings!

The glow in the dark madness,
The Lakan at Mutya clutch-heart-moments,
The Sports Fest *******,
Basketball girls’ coronation!

To the fieldtrips and failed trips,
To air conditioned crammings,
And space and time bending
To comparing notes (and sometimes other things)
Copying notes, sometimes photocopying
(Not Xeroxing)
Sharing words, phrases, sentences
And giving pictures (via Bluetooth).

May you keep walking on the right direction,

To the expectations achived,
Broken, overtaken.
All the skepticism,
Constructive criticism.

All of it.

The in-your-face-we-did-it-baby-
We-are-awesome-you-can’t-bring-us-do­wn-
Coz-we-rise-back-up-attitude.

To Arielle
And Mhae

To Amica
Marie
Narzcisa
Cyan
Fred
Theo
Alvinson
Anthony
Faith
Karmil­la
Matt
Jeffson
Lourince

To Carolyn

To Makayla

To the thirty-five castaways in this room
The thirty-five castaways who struggled
The thirty-five castaways who persevered
The thirty-five castaways who fought, cried, made up, laughed, shared, gave, back-stabbed, and front-stabbed, celebrated, suffered, passed
Thirty-five
Thirty-five castaways who loved,
Thirty-five

Thirty-five castaways who made it, who did it.

To Nikki
Hazel
Alyssa
Gef
Veni
Alex
Jaykee
Bernard
Myra
Vince
Chanta­lle
Josen
Jerian
Shaira
J
Uriah
Ihra
Renz
Bless
Steffany
Angel
Fl­orey
Bernadine
Antonette
Rency
Owen
Majah
Gino
Marcelo
Ney
Keith
­Joselle
And Jessa,

We did it guys.
We really did.

I'm sick and tired of hearing you
In different occasions and venue
The way you're fixed in their minds like tattoo.

You're in a child and adult's mind
Uttering you like they do know a thing
About places, people, culture and beliefs
Which you're set in that we ought to believe.

They're stating you as if you're a fact
Never doubted your reliability
If you're being too good to be true
Or too exagerrated to agree with.

I always find myself contradicting their knowledge about you
And wish that I could change you
But you'll no longer be stereotype if you do
'Cause that's what makes you----You.


Krystal Marcelo
06/28/16

*But originally written 04/17/16

He's just a blurred figure now in her memory
But his love will last till eternity.


Krystal Marcelo
*02/06/16

Fond of scribbling words
Especially when I'm down
A way of letting it go
A way of easing me down.

Now scanning a notebook
Full of unreadable writings
Like it's some kind of stenograph
Which I only can understand.

Some say that I have the gift
And some say that I'm brave enough
To tackle about my life,
To write about my pains.

But I can't see it that way
'Cause all the words in my mind
All the ideas I'm writing down
Isn't enough to express what's inside.

I'm dying to write all of it
To lessen my burdens
But I hardly find the words
And not all of it could be shared.

As ideas struck my mind
And I'm starting to write it down
It's where the complication start
As the words wrestle to form a phrase.

I can't make it rhyme all the time
But it doesn't matter
As long as it's lyrical
A free verse poem will do.

I follow no rule in writing
'Cause the best way to write for me
And the only way I know,
Is to write from the heart...


Krystal Marcelo
04/28/16

*But originally written 04/16/16

He is his mother's only son
He has his father's feature
But a little shorter than he was
Maybe because of working at early age.

His mother whom he adore
With all his heart
Left them to seek for the love
She never felt with his father.

Several months after
His father died
And inspite of being the only heir
He got nothing because of his greedy Aunts.

At the early pace of his life
And all the circumstances he's been through
Yet got no explanation for all that happened
He self-destruct himself and become a rebel.

He searched for love and understanding in other people
But always end up to another heartbreak
So he blame his mother for everything
And hated her for the rest of his life.

Then one day found himself
Standing in front of a coffin
And upon realizing it, it's too late
He ran out of time...

He grieved so much
But can't shed a tear
Maybe he had drained all of it
'Cause by all his pain.

With his unspoken words
And unexpressed feelings
He just strum his guitar
And sang a song from his heart.


Krystal Marcelo
*02/29/16

Depressing days have come on my way again
Stabbing me on my unhealed wound
Tearing me inside for the same reasons
Making my heart heavy and these tears unstoppable.

I can feel the pain
But unlike the way it used to
I don't feel so blue this time
I wonder why is that so.

Then the thought of you struck me
Is that you causing this?
But I didn't even know you
Just your sweet voice and wise thoughts.

I should be breaking inside now
But knowing that I have someone
Who will willingly listen about my complicated life,
I feel so relieved...

You said that you are my number one fan
When it comes to writing
But just so you know, I'm a fan of yours
For your motivational words.

The way you make things lighter for me
With your crazy jokes
About 'Albert the monkey whom my Uncle adopted'
Who cares if we're the only ones who can relate.

But something's bothering me
As I've never been so vulnerable to anyone
And I don't want to get used to this feeling
'Cause I'm afraid you'll be like the one in what I read once.

It says that through our darkest hours
There comes an angel in disguise who will enlighten us
But as we learned to deal with our pains and get back on our feet again
They will be gone forever...

I know that if I ever take a chance on you and lose you
It will break me as I always did 'cause of loving
But if that means having you in my life even just for a little time
Will be more than enough for me to take the risk.

I am NOT afraid to love now
Instead I'm afraid that I won't get this chance again...

Krystal Marcelo
*09/19/16

An early morning in January
Heart as cold as the monsoon air
Sun rays beaming through the window
Not enough to make the place warm again.

Lying still,
Staring at the ceiling
Overthinking things
Trying to reminisce the beginning.

An acquaintance so sudden
Trust that was easily obtained
A connection that can't be denied
The feeling that lifted me up to heaven.

For years enclosed in a shell
Shell of fear of being hurt
Not wanting this fragile heart
To shatter in pieces you can impossibly count.

As another break up story goes
The more I get afraid to take a chance
Told that I should not be
'cause "Love is beautiful."

Convinced to believe it
Trying to be optimistic about it
But happiness can't stand alone
Without going through pain.

It started with a doubt
A doubt that leads to insecurity
Which can mess up everything
That can ruin a relationship.

It took a while to gain the guts
To seek for the unwanted truth
To unravel answers
For the questions that's lingering in my mind.

It's overwhelming to know
That you have his attention
But the real question,
Are you the only one who has his affection?

And the next thing you'll know
You're burning of insecurity
Drowning in jealousy
It's because of your curiousity.

The pain is excruciating
Tearing everything that's left
Thrusting you deeper in that hole,
Hole of fear, regret and loneliness.

How can he be so dear to you
When he's so fond of anyone else?
Or is it you misconcluding his kindness
Into something more than friendship?

Now there's just two options left
Hold on or let go...


Krystal Marcelo
*01/22/16

On this night
Under the full moon
Illuminating the dark phase of the Earth
Changing the concept of a typical night.

As I stare at the glow-in-the-dark
That I hanged on the empty wall
To make me remember my home
That I always longed.

The smell of coffee in the morning
As you slowly opening your eyes
To see the sunshine through the huge glass windows
And hear the vehicles passing by 'cause we live at the roadside.

With the sight of three gigantic mountains
That surrounds us and seem to protect us
And give us that humid weather
"There's no place like home", indeed.

But leaving home for the quest of finding me
Makes me miss it like it's killing me
But that's how things were supposed to be
In my journey of knowing who I want to be.

Plans were plotted
Actions were taken
But circumstances
Always comes along the way.

With every step that I take
Towards that long-awaited success
The more it gets tough
And far beyond  my reach.

Like my life's a maze
That turning right could be wrong
And turning left could be right
But both could lead to dead end.

Or perhaps I was just led astray
And my senses just deceiving me
'Cause what I'm seeking for
Is right in front of me back to the start.

Krystal Marcelo
*01/28/16

I am a typical girl
An achiever in my own little ways
Not a famous yet not a loser
Not so cool but not a nerd either.

I do what others also do
Like it's some kind of rule to be followed
A girl trying to live a dream
Well---I used to be those things ...

Before a turning point came across my story
Turned my whole world upside down
I fell on darkness but I struggled to come out into the light
But I feel forever stuck in this kind of life.

It's like I'm in a dream
I am running yet I'm not moving
I am screaming
But no one hears me.

So many people trying to drag me down
But I know I'm strong to let myself down
Some people wanted to help me get on my feet
But their kindness seem so humiliating to me.

There's a lot of choices in front of me
And it's driving me crazy
Yet all I need is a headstart
A chapter where I can start a new life...


Krystal Marcelo
06/27/16

*But originally written 06/08/16

As the rope of anger reached it's end
Rage of anger began to burst
Like a volcano erupting so suddenly
Feeling nothing but hate for the enemy.

Trying hard to control the wrath
Wanting no one to get hurt
But as the rage continue to burst
Found himself bleeding instead.

Then deeply he  breathes
To gather his wits
To unveil the anger that blanketed his heart
To retrieve that part of him that once so calm.

And as the anger dispersed
A thought had been realized
Even a creature so angelic
Can't hide the beast inside...

                                                     ­                             Krystal Marcelo
                                                        ­                                 *01/18/16

She can feel her body trembling

And there's a cold terrible feeling

That's crawling up into her head

Turning her as cold as dead

She tries to hide it

But her eyes can't deny it

The throbbing that can't be tamed

Could give her a cardiac arrest

Maybe she can be clever

To think of another

Solid alibi to utter

Yet there would be guilt

If she chose to beat

Her conscience with fear

'Cause she may be fooling everyone

But deep in her heart

She knew she can't fool herself

That's why...

She can't lie.



Krystal Marcelo
*02/01/16

Billions of fireflies up above
Are what they seem to me
'Cause looking up to these stars
Is like seeing them always for the first time.

I don't know what's in them
That everytime I look at them
I'm always left so amazed
And I just can't help but stare.

It's such a shame that I can't stay
'Til the very last one of them disappear
How I wish I could detach one of our roof
So that I could fall asleep under their light.

There's comfort in their number
Knowing that you're guided by billions of them
And there's spark of hope
As they twinkle when you gaze up to them .

It's challenging to trace every constellation
Which I never really paid attention
But there's always one question
"If up among them is our final destination?".


Krystal Marcelo
06/27/16

*But originally written 05/11/16