I wonder,
when
why
how
did
I lost her

I wonder
if
turning
back
would
be
worth it

I wonder
if—

I feel lost.*

I don’t belong anywhere.

And I have no where to go. Nobody to go to.

I’m often alone. I like being alone, enjoying my own space. I shut down the noise and drown myself in the ocean of silence. I like being alone. I’m used to it.

Until loneliness came.

It didn’t crush my bones with one titanic wave. Instead, it came slowly, with small and subtle waves against my feet.

It was somehow comforting, the cold water touching my feet.

But the subtle waves did not last long. The strong waves of loneliness came crashing in. Like a tsunami destroying my insides.

And now *I’m lost.

Paano kung sabihin ko sa’yong patapos na,
Na ang dulo’y abot na ng aking mga mata?
Ngunit sa bawat hakbang kong papalayo sa’yo,
Tila ba ang loob ko’y napupuno ng bato.

Paano kung sabihin ko sa’yong ayoko na,
Na hindi ko na kaya kung patatagalin pa?
Sapagkat ga’no man kalalim akong nahulog,
Natatapos din ang himig ng awit at tugtog.

Paano kung sabihin ko sa’yong panahon na,
Para sa pagpalaya natin sa isa’t isa?
Dahil kahit gusto ko mang kumapit pa sa’yo,
Pareho tayong mapapako kung ‘di lalayo.

Paano kung sabihin ko sa’yong paalam na?
Salamat sa mga ala-ala nating dal’wa,
At patawad sapagkat hindi napanindigan,
Ang unang pagsuyong ating inaalagaan.

Mahal, pa’no kung sabihin ko ang lahat ng ‘to,
Nadarama mo rin ba ang sakit na taglay ko?
Kung ang puso kong nasa iyo ay sugatan na,
Pa’no ko pang masasabing— mahal pa rin kita.

Sunlight glistens through her window,
Radiates beginnings and a bright tomorrow.
But like a vampire, she instinctively recoiled—
Afraid to be scorched, inside she’s still unspoiled.

She is shielded by a stellar black hole,
Floating around like a misguided soul.
Nothing can get out, she’s trapped inside
A star that shines but have already died.

Perhaps, she’s too fragile for the cruel world
Her petals’ too young, she haven’t unfurled.
Withdrawn to anything that inflicts hope,
Like looking through a covered telescope.

She is a book which remains untold
Wait for the right time, she shall unfold.

you make me
smile
laugh
...shy

you make me
feel
noticed
flustered

you tug at my
heartstrings
and give
fireflies

but you are
not mine
to keep

you were
never
mine

so
please
just
*go

I.
This is just another bad poem
Just vomited-thoughts-left-on-paper poem
This is a collection of grammatical errors
This would surely make my English teacher cringe
But no worries, I didn’t write this for her

II.
This bad poem is for you

May my subject and verb disagreement
remind you of all those misunderstandings that lead to raised voices
and nights where I cried myself to sleep

Sentence construction was never my strength, it still isn’t, maybe that’s why you never truly understood me—
called me difficult and bipolar
You said that I was too much

Did it ever occur to you that you might just misread me, like homonyms,
same words but with different meanings
misread my jealousy with accusations,
my concern for excessive affection

You said that I loved you too much
but darling, did you even love me at all?

Did I put too much meaning on your words,
turned them into similes and metaphors?
Turned your literal statements into figures of speech
You told me that you liked me,
so I blissfully interpreted it as a hyperbolic expression— called it love when obviously it wasn’t

III.
I was never good at using punctuations
I put too much commas,
unnecessary, misused, I kept trying to hold on
Afraid of the inevitable end,

Switched to semi-colons in an attempt to make it a few words longer

Because despite all our grammatical errors
no matter how shameful our piece of literature was to the English language

It was beautiful to the untrained eye,
To those who read poetry as it is
To those who don’t dig deep in search of true meaning behind the metaphors
It was beautiful to me

But I eventually learned that infinitives and infinities are different,
in spite of sharing infinite as the root word
Like our love,

started with something so promising
but unlike most novels,
there’s no happy ending

So I accepted defeat,
accepted the inevitable and bitter end
No more committing the same mistakes over and over again,
the same words over and over again,

Accepted the fact that synonyms existed,
words with the same meaning but also entirely different
new and unfamiliar, foreign and peculiar

IV.
I accepted defeat
No more commas or semi-colons
We have reached the couplet of our free formed sonnet—

I was never good with endings, I don’t think I’ll ever be,
So darling I hand you the pen, set us both free.

my mouth
is a box in the attic hidden away
it is the box in the attic with the fragile symbol on it
a warning that it should be handled with care

my mouth
came with a filter
it filtrate the words that I wanted to say the most
but there are days when the filter seems to have a glitch
allowing my thoughts to leave my mouth with full conviction

my mouth
was programmed to have respect
encoded on my tongue are two powerful words
two words that I often use with strangers
but I think my tongue was burned by too much coffee
because every time I needed to use those two words
I always end up two words short

my mouth
skipped its classes
or maybe it didn’t learn anything
especially with the major subjects like How-To-Have-A-Normal-Conversation or What-Is-The-Right-Thing-To-Say or Small-Talk-101
because I always end up with awkward silences and a tongue-tied mouth

my mouth
is a home to a set of perfectly aligned teeth
but maybe my parents shouldn’t have invested their money on my teeth
instead they should have asked the doctor to fix my tongue
so that it would construct the right words they want to hear at the right time
a perfectly fixed tongue that would not answer them back with a mouthful of teen angst

my mouth
is not a home to a powerful voice
it is not soothing or moving
it is a home of mispronounced words from a lost voice
a voice with not enough strength

my mouth
is a place that is not yet explored
an uncharted territory
with a do not enter sign on its chapped lips

my mouth
is unfamiliar with smiles
its corners pulled down by gravity
it does not trust happy
it is home to sighs and strangled cries

my mouth
is the box in the attic filled with hope and a promise
a promise to the body it resides to
that someday its voice will no longer be lost
that someday it will be a mouth that is a home to a smile
the day will come that I would still stumble with my words
but it will carry the message that I want

someday

but today

my mouth
still needs to fix its stutter

it is a mouth full of words not said
it is still hidden in the attic
and is better left sealed and shut