Dearest Maria Ligaya,

I do not know where to start. Maybe because we started close but ended separately like a stranger. I am not one to judge. They do. I am not biased either. I chose to walk away because I do not want a fight, a quarrel between us, to begin with.

When I sensed quarrel is gonna happen, I blocked you. Not because I hate you, but because I wanna avoid hurting you. But I realized, the more I tried protecting you, you were never doing the same for me too. It was like we chose to ride in a boat together, but chose to row it in different directions. We cannot adjust the wind, but we can adjust the sail— which never happened. Because you were too focused on the wind itself and not on its sail.

I chose not to test the waters at first, but clearly, I saw an alligator swimming. Later on, I learned to test the waters, survive through the tides, rising and falling. The calming comes and then storm happens. Just like how the waves rushes to meet the shore, we never met halfway. I was grateful for it. For the bouyancy. For the warning. That even when I almost drown, I stayed afloat.

Maybe you felt like a hero, just because you have a lot of things to say and you did. The unfiltered, raw words you told me directly or towards my family. I will never forgive you for that. But I chose to. Not because I was weak, not because I want to accept defeat. But because I wanted to come clean and act mature.

I did want to say things to you. I chose to protect your feelings. I do not wanna hurt you because I know myself— I can be tacky at times, I may not think first and speak afterwards. But for a fact that even if we are at war, I still chose to not tell it directly.

You did hurt my feelings. My family's feelings. You never even think twice to assess the issue and gather information or data. You easily judged us without proofs, with biased judgments, you chose to believe your son more than us. Of course, he is your son. Your flesh and blood. And who are we? Just your servants, right? No. We are your family, but you treated us like dogs. Spoiled us with your padala, your reject clothes, buy 1 take 1 products. In return, you could easily fool us.

With your ambition to go abroad, who helped you? — my mother. Who sent you there?— my father. You have the utang na loob? None. Nada. You do not need to repay us, okay? That was not out of obligation, not out of responsibility. But because we love you, we sent you to the airport.

Let me take you back to memory lane: she was my aunt. My cousin, her son. My recent enemy, her gold digger girlfriend, pa-papel sa tita kong naka-asawa ng cano, nagfi-feeling mayaman na. When her girlfriend came into the picture, we got chaotic. My cousin and I knitted like siblings since birth separated now because of her.

When her girlfriend arrived, I sensed a bad vibe aura. I interrogated her, she told my cousin. And my cousin told the nanny, that I am like the acting owner of the house, interrogating her. I was not interrogating her, I was getting to know her. If she finds it rude of me to ask her, then why did she show herself in my uncle's house. Yes, technically, the house was under my uncle's name (the eldest brother of my aunt and mom) but my aunt was the one paying for it. All through out my mom's life, she was the one left here in our city, my aunt went abroad, my uncle was in the rural area working as a teacher. I do not wanna complain, but my mom took care of my grandfather, when he died, my mom took care of it all.

Where were they? My relatives asked. Busy, I answered. When my grandma got sick, the fiasco dig in. The chaos caved in. There was no absolute, infinite and clear communication that happened. Before, I was proud enough to say that my family never fought for the land, but now, we do.

When grandma got bedridden, mom took care of things from left to right. At first, I was the one taking care of her, my mom and my back got painful from carrying my heavy grandma. My mom's back got worse. It still hurts and pains up to this day. While you there, sitting pretty in your mortgaged apartment in North Carolina. Edi SANA ALL. For not suffering. Not for being a pessimistic *****.

What is your point here Maria Ligaya? To belittle us? At least, my family is not like yours. My mom married a man so kind and loving, not like yours, a narcissistic ******* (as authored by the psychologist). That later on, your son became one too.

I may forgive you for a lot of things. But I will never forgive you for hurting my mom. Do you not have some conscience? She took care of everything for you. When that happens, just know your son will take care of everything for you.

We chose to walk away. To move to a new place without your ghost following us. We felt like a shadow every time we follow you. You even ruined my relationship with my cousin because of your pagka-engrata. Be grateful, I do not do revenge. Karma will do its vengeance for me. God will do it for me. He saw me when I was low. He saw me when I was helpless.  I hope God will forgive you for you did to us. Inhumane indeed.

That is all.

—Me.

The sincerest apologies are not spoken in words
but felt in the quiet descent of tears.

Maybe because we do not want someone to let us go,
or maybe because it is too hard to put those feelings into words.

I am nothing but a lost traveler, yet I chose the path less traveled by.  
I trusted the process, and it led me to the road not taken.  

Life’s journey offers no shortcuts—each road we take comes with its own imperfections:  
a bumpy one, a straight one, a winding one, or perhaps one shrouded in uncertainty.

You can judge me—I can take it,
I am a grown up now, I handle things differently any woman would want to.

You gave it your best shot to know my life—but you never knew the real me
You never knew how capable I am of controlling my emotions but my face says it all;
My eyes says it all,
Don't taunt me, or else, you will never like it when something bad happens to you

You think you can belittle me, go on
The show is about to start
Put your pretty makeup on now
So that it will hide your shamelessness

Go ahead, wear some perfume, brush your teeth, and gargle with mouthwash—maybe that’ll take care of the lingering funk you’ve got going on.

You were so proud to tell the whole world about my ***** linens
Are you sure that you are so pure and clean?
Reel it in, you only know the half of it
The stories and the highlights of my life, are only short info of what you feast on
You never knew my whole autobiography.

A certain someone said—

“You’re ugly. Unpleasant.”

Out of rage, maybe. Out of anger, perhaps.

“I will make your life a living hell.”

And you swore I was lying.

He told me I was like the devil.
I smiled, leaned in, and whispered—

“Oh? Only now do you take notice?
When I have long been the storm’s whisper—
a fire untamed, a shadow unfazed,
a reckoning etched in time.”

You said I had feelings for you.

Really?

“You’re lucky, you know—
because I never once realized
there was anything to know.”

He said he hates me.

Oh?

I was not born to be pleasing,
nor crafted for admiration.
I was not shaped by fragile hands,
nor built to bend beneath expectation.

Let him seethe, let him scorn—
what of it?
The sun does not dim
for those who curse its light.

I exist not to be liked,
but to be unwavering.

He said I was crazy.

Oh, really?
That’s nothing new—
why did it take you this long to realize?
What a shame.

Manipulate me all you can.
I can gaslight you in return.
Be a big bad piggy all your life,
You forgot to know who the big bad Wolfie is.

Leaving your job was never the loss.
The real loss would have been you—the slow unraveling of your spirit,
the exhaustion that blurred the edges of who you are,
the way the weight of work stole pieces of yourself until you barely recognized what was left.

You were never the loss. They were.

They lost someone who followed every order,
took on responsibilities beyond his role,
endured underpayment, delays, and mistreatment just to make a living.
But at what cost?
Respect was never part of the bargain.

You did everything.
You swallowed your pride despite having a degree,
despite knowing you deserved more.
But they?
They stripped you down, reduced you to a worker who must obey,
who must endure,
who must accept disrespect as part of the job.

Just because my partner made a mistake in cooking—
one that resulted from your lack of proper instructions—
you thought it was justified to punish him by making him stand for four hours?
What kind of person are you?

Don’t wait until life turns the tables on you.
The world is round.
you won’t always be on top.
Remember that.

I won’t waste my time engaging with you.
I will never stoop so low as to match your level.
You may be educated, but your behavior is anything but dignified.

They demanded without explanation,
expected without clarity, berated without reason.
And when they insulted you—called you stupid, incompetent—who was truly ignorant?
The employer who couldn’t give proper instructions?
The one who expected you to memorize recipes instantly?
The one who assumed you should move with the speed of a machine?

If they wanted a robot, they should have installed batteries in their kitchen.
They should have used a remote control instead of expecting you to function without rest,
without thought, without dignity.

But you? You are not a machine. And they? They are the ones who have lost.

Leaving that job does not mean failure. Staying in a place that destroys your sense of self—that would have been failure.

And the truth is, you are not alone. Many have walked away before you, many have endured the same abuse. And yet, no one stays.

Because respect is not found there.

Because dignity is worth more than a paycheck.

Because real loss is when you forget that you deserve better.

So, you walked away. And that? That was power.

Nice try, you can't hurt me
With a single blow, once or twice
I've done that, experienced that
A couple of hundred times
I ain't coming from the wake & bake family
I need no cannabis to smoke,
I breathe the smoke they puff in
I breathe it in like an air freshener
I breathe it out like a toxic waste
You know me don't you?
Only by my name, not the real me.

No revenge, just poetry.
Play fair or lose everything.
Choose the right cards to fold or raise;
choose the right piece to move, or else checkmate.
Choose the battles you prefer to win—do not outwit me.
You don't have to send your army of evil just to make me change my ways. Nah.

I prefer my words like ice—
my tongue, a blade honed to perfection.
My presence shatters like broken mirrors,
leaving only jagged reflections behind.
And when my eyes meet yours,
they do not waver—only burn with disgust.

Even if you thought you already won—nah, I am just warming up.
If you thought I was scared just because I didn’t overreact, you assume too much.
Looks can ****—take note.
What kills you most isn’t how I look at you,
but the way it itches you to see me not give a f*ck.

We never know the whole story
We knew they both had a history
I only know the gist of it
But the mariteses cannot get over with it

Feeling victim for clout
They probably know by now what it was all about

He was a charming young man
While she was a selfish and materialistic woman
He only wanted to give, to love
But he was killed out of mercy, out of hate or love

Saving yourself while killing someone you love
They both seem to know what they need to shove
Forget everything in an oblivious way
An unforgivable menace comes along your way

You should be careful by now about the way you acted or behave
But that doesn’t mean you will be saved
Your days are counted but out-numbered
But you felt guilty, feeling encumbered

Consider yourself lucky for making it out alive
Choosing yourself to be alive just to survive

Yeah, because you prolly should have known by now
It is not what god wanted, but something that evil allows
You are the bait in someone’s hook
I hope you let yourself off the hook

Your asukarera de papa is not almighty
Because shiny things are not all shiny
They might blind you; it was indeed too good to be true
Some are pretentious to reassure, while some are real and pure

You’re the prey of the hunter
Feeling like an undercover
Everything was yet to be discovered
Not gonna happen that a lifeless interest was left to be unexplored

You were the precious bunny in his tantalizing eyes
At that time, the spirit of jealousy was on the rise
They said he was in a higher-being position
He got a family, a wife and four children

Hence, He got distracted in the beautiful garden of Eden
But the mistress and the * were in an awkward juxtaposition

But he was not a god, nor was a saint
He was handling any issues like a brief feint
He blamed god for everything else
He was feeling blessed, no more, no less

He said god was on his side
But as far as it gets interesting, the devil was his bride

Now you’re the target of the killer
This phenomenon was an indestructible thriller
He may have pocket knives, guns, arrows, ammo, name it
Best for you to forget or believe it

He marks the X on the spot
He left you there, lying on the streets to rot
He grinned so much now you’re gone
The mission was accomplished and done

But I hope you listened to me, but you never did
You gained so much of what you want to benefit

Millions of blood money were used in the wrong situation
Now that she got her decision, everything is in transition
Now you’re six feet below the ground
Now she's playing like a victim, feeling depressed that you're not around

She may be spending a lot to compensate for the pain
The trauma and the blame have left there in your mind, they remain
To lessen the pain and the burden
It doesn't make you any less golden

To lessen the sins, you have committed
Since you're so selfish, your sins were never admitted

It doesn’t matter if you visit him, any day, any night
You killed an innocent life, that's not right
From your selfish deeds, knowingly you have needs
You only think of yourself, self

You never should have bothered him in the first place
Now he was in a better place

He believed he was holy
But your soul is agonizing, deadly, slowly but surely
Holy enough to involve others
Flushing everything down the gutter

Tasked others to do the crime
It was not god's timing, but the devil's time
He thought he was protected by the saints and the gods
For the sake of their bad blood

He made religion his shield
Everything will be revealed
But makes evil schemes behind the church’s back
Your body and soul, later on, will be the hell's snack

The mastermind was his lover
He said he'll leave his wife for another
Felt guilty enough to care for the dead
Now you're a famewhore, a memer, your issues spread

But it’s too late, stop pretending
You never loved him, you were only good at pretending
You used him many times, **** him all you want
But you were not so nonchalant

Clinging unto your asukarera de papa for money and fame
By simply calling and talking to him, he can sense you are no longer the same

Spoiling you for getting everything
He is such a scary thing
You even fooled yourself about him wanting you
He is just ******* you, getting your nerve out of you

You got the nerve to keep asking him
Singing him praises and hymns
Visiting his tomb, telling him, you'd wish him to be your groom

You never thought of him even once or twice
Now they've pressed you for charges, no running away now
It's time to pay the lifetime price
You've been a spoiled brat, somehow

They said you keep buying him useless things
Now, seeing him in a tux, lying in his casket, unattached strings


But later on, when you feel sad and depressed, it gets funny
You traded his soul for the money
Don’t you know what power it will bring to the world?
Chaos and death are unfurled

You may be pretty and angelic
Being a ****** suit you but not being dramatic or sympathetic
But whom the **** knows what your mischievous attitude and behavior did to him
You were the best actress in the show, trying to fit in the show to look like a film

His worth never meant something to you
Now that you got the best view
His worth is just a dime that fell on the floor
You are not that worth it anymore

A lot of people believed though
You kept on faking it though
You got the nerve to chill and swim in the sea
They labelled you as the pokpok ng **, you see

You got the audacity to sleep, eat and work
Well, the best reaction is just to smirk
After the incident, after what you’ve done to them
Now you've got the hellish realm, to protect yourself from them

After what you’ve done to the bereaved family
Until further notice, you were no longer in fantasy

What lies ahead, what lies behind and what lies beyond it all
They will surely blame you all
You never deserve the best girlfriend award, wildcard
But she was ignored, they implored

They only want to give you the trophy you deserve, it was a catastrophe
She treated his family nastily

He was never released or in peace
But let's pay our respect to the deceased
His soul was in misery, in restlessness
I guess you seem relentless

Say your comforting and doubtful prayers
Come and show everyone your crocodile tears
Telling everyone your lies and faking a smile
Just before everything was settled, even the error and trial

Though reminiscing those memories, he left behind
But everyone seems to turn an eye so blind
Your eulogy was only a show
Everyone knows the truth but still, they went to go on with the flow

Whereas hiding your true feelings, feeling glad
Behind the curtains, you tell everything to your sugar dad
While everyone cried their heart out, their eyes were bawling
Got no sleep, tired of overthinking

What do they call you?
You’re a ******* *****, home-wrecker, concubine
Mistress, *****, *******, harlot
That is what they call you
I mean, now that's a lot

Pretend to your daddy, and tell him your intention
Your soul is hungry for love and attention
You're no brainer, just a dummy
Whose soul is thirsty for money

Your soul started agonizing in pain
It is nothing that your self-gain
You are alive but felt hellish guilty as ****
Wait till god plucks your life like a wasted duck

You mask your motives
Thus, everything in this issue we bet seems explosive
You ask for sympathy to gain self-esteem
**** your life, your dream

You do not want to 'fess up to yourself
Hiding the truth like a book on its shelf
You always mess up with everyone’s family
Your foul words are profanity, what you did was an act of inhumanity

You are the mastermind from the beginning to the end of time
You came to his tomb, confessing and repenting your sins from time to time
He keeps visiting you in your dreams
Quit that routine, you're no longer his queen

Asking for mercy and peace of mind
But you never mind
You never thought of loving him was the best thing you ever did
You're a one skilled ***** after all, as fulfilled

How come you **** up and never listened to your conscience
Now you have to face the consequences.

Stop searching for places where you feel like you need to fit in, especially when you truly don’t belong there.

Stop seeking love from people just to fill the emptiness inside you.

You cannot expect to receive something from others if you are unable to give it yourself.

Simply put, you cannot give what you do not have.

So, learn to appreciate and love yourself first.

Dear NKRL,
(You know who you are—I won’t name drop.)

This is the last time you’ll see me, hear from me, or even feel like you still have access to me.
By the time you read this, I might already be married. And I hope that thought pierces through your ego.

God knows how low I had fallen when you met me.
You came into my life at the most unexpected time—
but your timing never quite matched mine.
You made a move when I wasn’t even interested.
And I admit, you had charm.
You were great… until you weren’t.

Back then, I didn’t know what “love bombing” or “guilt-tripping” meant.
All I knew was what I felt—confused, manipulated, and small.
Turns out, I was already experiencing it.
I just didn’t have the words for it yet.

I used to be thankful you’d make time for me despite your “busy schedule.”
But then I realized—I was something you just squeezed in between everything else.
You became forceful about things I wasn’t ready for.
Things I didn’t want.
And we had no label.
I asked for one.
You said we had to keep things discreet—because we were neighbors.

When I became single, you turned me into your fling.
And when you ghosted me, I spiraled.
Overthinking.
Questioning.
Hurting.
“What are we?”
“Was I not enough?”
I felt jealous, angry—but I had no right, because there was nothing real to hold on to.

Eventually, I got tired of waiting.
For the label I was begging and asking from you
But all you gave me were reasons,
Just like how thick a Dictionary is,
It was just like you too.
I got tired of it, waiting for nothing
Not knowing when will that happen.
You always tell me that I do not know how to wait. I am impatient.

So, anyways;
I found someone else.
And you… you backed off. Maybe out of respect, or maybe just because it wasn’t convenient anymore.

Our on-and-off, undefined something faded.
I started unsending the messages I had sent—the ones you never even cared to read.
That’s how pitiful I felt, like I was begging for breadcrumbs you had no intention of sharing.

Then came 2022.
I found my soulmate.
And you—you ruined us.

When my partner found out about our past, he was furious.
And I don’t blame him.
I let you in—not because I still had feelings for you,
but because I thought you were still my friend.
But I was wrong.
You weren’t.
You used that friendship to worm your way in and blur lines.
You abused the closeness I once thought was safe.

I felt like a cup of hot coffee—
left unattended.
And when he finally came back,
I had already gone cold.

But the issue was never the coffee.
It was always the one who was supposed to drink it.

I always waited for him—
until one day, I didn’t anymore.
Because time won’t wait for me,
and I can’t keep letting it pass me by
while holding on to someone
who never truly held on to me.

How can I say yes to your demand when it was against my favors?
How can I be with you when you are not the man I prayed for?
How can I even hold your hand when you never extended it for me to reach?
How can I choose you when you only choose me when you are bored?
How can I form a relationship with someone who only saw me as a **** buddy?
How can I go back to you when you only saw me as a past time hobby?
How can I love you when you cannot even afford to love me first?
How can you offer me comfort when you cannot even provide for yourself?

I am grateful for the memories, truly
But I never realized that,
Not all closed doors when opens are from God,
Sometimes it leads you to the wrong person or direction.

But one day, whenever I see you
I’ll never learn to smile the same again.
Maybe the scars will stay a little longer.
But I know this deep in my bones:
I’ll make it through.

And if you ever decide to wait for me—
truly wait—
then maybe, just maybe,
you'll find me
not where you left me,
but somewhere stronger.

By the way,
thank you so much for holding my hand—
I truly thought you were the one pulling me out of the storm.
Somehow, I was wrong.

You were the reason for my drowning,
the weight beneath the waves,
the anchor I mistook for rescue.
You weren’t my light—
you were my darkness.

So here I am now—stronger, wiser, finally done.
No more waiting. No more unsent messages.
No more trying to decode your silence.

This is goodbye.
No closure needed.
Because I’ve already closed that door myself.

—Me.

Maybe you like to be my Adonis
But you have no face, to face the crowd
Expose your secrets like ***** linens hang outside the house, in the backyard
Or a dug secret, untold to everyone just like every skeleton in the closet
I highly doubted, many will miss you
I got a pistol and a shovel
Make no mistakes, soldier
One wrong move and you are out.
You may be the one in higher position, but I am still your commander.
Do not mess with me, if you wanna still be alive and breathing...

—Signed by your wife.
(No shovel involved)

My personality is like a deck of cards—each one revealing a different facet of who I am.
The good cards are my victories in life, the ones that draw people to me despite my innocence and naivety.
They are the moments that allow me to forge connections, to befriend others, to navigate the world with hope.

But behind those cards lie the bad ones—the losses in the game, yet paradoxically, the wins in life.
They unveil the raw truths of existence, exposing the genuine intentions of the world and the shadows within my own nature. Perhaps many have never truly known me.
People recognize only the parts I choose to reveal, the carefully presented pieces of my story.
Yet they remain unaware of the silent battles, the unseen struggles I have endured.

How can someone claim to truly know me when all they have seen are the reels, the highlights, the fleeting clips of my life—but never the raw, unfiltered behind-the-scenes?

They witness the carefully curated moments, the victories, the laughter, the beautifully framed snapshots that fit within their expectations. But they don’t see the retakes, the silent battles fought off-camera, the exhaustion, the parts of my story too complex or too painful to compress into a mere clip.

To know me is not just to watch the performance, but to understand the struggles that shaped it.
It is to acknowledge the moments I didn't share—the doubts, the resilience, the quiet growth beyond the spotlight.

True understanding lies not in what is shown, but in what is felt beyond the frame.
What you see of me through social media is not real—the curated moments, the framed exposures, the glimpses tailored for the world to perceive.
The truth lies beyond the filters, beyond the carefully composed narrative.
So let me reshuffle my life however I choose.
Stop assuming you know everything about it when you don’t.
Stop implying that things will unfold a certain way, because they won’t—not like that, not how you expect.

My path is mine alone, shaped by choices only I understand.
The future is not predetermined, and what is “supposed to happen” will never be dictated by anyone but me.
So just let me be—let me exist as I am. I don’t need anyone to shape me, to define me, or to tell me how to move through life. I can get by on my own.

I know my path, my resilience, my own way forward. And that’s enough.

Toodles.

how troubled my mind is? I painted a figure
a silhouette in black
with a tight rope wrapped on its neck while screams for help
her lipstick was smudged
Her limbs were cut, bones were broken and chopped
Into the bag, she went

Talked to a goblet and a bottle of wine before going to sleep

I wish I could read between the lines
Match the types, connect the dots
Draw my pain, sing my sorrow
Danced to the rhythm
Sometimes, the saddest person gives good advice
because they wish they hear those words they wanna hear

It’s not exactly flattering,
but this song always plays in my mind
whenever you resurface:

Say hello to the girl you can't let go.
Does she know when you're home,
it's me you're trying to call on your phone?
I'm holding back everything I wanna say—
consider yourself lucky
that I'm choosing to behave.

Does she know?
That you have a dummy account?
That through your dump account,
you still try to message me?
You have a girlfriend now, boy.
So why do you keep insisting on reaching out?

We never got closure, and honestly—
there’s nothing left to say.
It’s over.

What was the point of reaching out to me?
To check in?
You should have done that back when we were still together.
What changed now?
When you chose to break us apart,
did you think about it then,
or is it only crossing your mind now
that you’ve found happiness with someone else?

Every time I hear our theme song,
I no longer think of you.
I no longer remember our memories.
The only thing that comes to mind is the moment you left me.

You should’ve realized that back when we were together.
So sorry, boy—
your loss, not mine.