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My God, Our Creator—
Is so forgiving, has forgiven me
So, who am I, an imperfect mere human
Would not be forgiving to the ones who wronged us.
you thought I never really forgotten it, I forgave you but I never really got the chance to forget it.

it never really left. It was just there. I  might remember it but the feelings and emotions were gone.
Caught in a ripple effect,
My plans unravel before my eyes.
I might break, or I might smirk—like a diamond,
Priceless, unyielding.

Honey, I shine with my own originality.
You? A moissanite—just imitation,
A hollow mimic of what’s truly real.

From mourning, I rise reborn,
A black snake coiled around a katana,
Fading to a blood-red hue.

Side-eyed, venomous chic, with short, trimmed hair,
Rebelled like a sin, a tattooed bloodstain on my neck.

Bruised patch on my wrist—slash me with your best shot.
My poems are the true witnesses of my experience,
Instead of shedding a tear, I turn to my keyboard—
typing what I felt,
turning my pain into words.

Instead of being vulnerable in front of the world,
I choose to be vulnerable in verses,
letting the ink spill where silence once held me captive.

I don’t shout what I feel deep within;
I hold my thoughts and carve them into lines—
no longer acting out the chaos,
but releasing it with the stroke of each key.

Gone are the days of outbursts,
of unspoken words and buried emotions.
Now, with every line, I blow out what I once held in,
transforming what hurt into something that speaks.

Stop me, I don't even recognize myself when I'm full of anger, hatred, and sorrow, overflowing with emotion.
Hinding-hindi ko ipagpapalit ngiti mo sa mundo.
I like your confidence, it's overflowing, oozing
Stop rolling your eyes, or else I'll gouge them out
But I smell trouble, I sense threatened
Since they told me that I am a walking gasoline, a talking ticking time bomb
One lit of a match, I may start a fire
I'm like a gun loaded with bullets, a tank ready for go to blow

I plead for arson, a torch to hold dear
yet you are desperate for attention
Blink twice now, yes, are you either naughty or nice?
Either way, it doesn't matter
Because even your shadows betray you, turning its back on you.
The peace of not knowing everything is far better than the burden of knowing it all at once.

Or perhaps, this boredom I feel now is the peace I once longed for. Either way, I am grateful—I have learned how to be alone without being lonely.

But did you know? The best thing they ever did for me—those bred with perfection and sincerity—was to despise me in silence. Hated by many, yet confronted by none.

Perhaps it was the peace of mind I deserved—to not know at all. Or maybe, it was merely the weight of unanswered questions and the burden of overthinking.

A peace of mind, I plead. Mind me, will you?
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