Ako'y napamahal sa isang munting butiun
Di man masyadong halata pero sa aki'y walang siyang kahambing
Isang bituing sa mata ko'y palaging numiningning
At sa kabila ng dami ng bituin siya parin ang mamahalin
Ako ay tumaya sa pag ikot ng ruleta
Tumaya dahil umaasang sakin ito'y tatama
Sa sobrang dami ng aking tinaya tila'y nawalan ng pagasa
Pano ba naman ni isang beses ako'y hindi pinagpala
i loved you
not because of your scent
or because of the crinkle in your eyes
i did not love you
because of the melody in your laughter
or the brightness of your smile
i did not love you because you gave me flowers
or because you sang me a song.
and i certainly did not love you
because of the warmth of your embrace
or the softness of your hand in mine.
i did not love you
because you stayed up hours to talk to me.
i loved you because you saw what no one else
ever saw in me.
i opened my closet of monsters to you
and even with fear in your eyes
you embraced me.
i loved you because
you still stayed beside me
despite the fact i was not as beautiful as you.
i loved you because of the gentle patience
you gave to me when i was filled with nothing
but doubt and despair.
i loved you because of the time
you spent with me
when i was scared of my own self.
i loved you because despite the fear i instilled in not only
myself, but you as well,
you tamed me.
you loved me when i did not love myself
and for that,
i truly did love you.
for the record, i still do.
i remember when you
told me how much i
Meant to you.
how i made you Flourish
and bubble with glee.
my face constantly contorted
with pain and love
that made me stay longer
than i probably should have.
festering until my heart spoiled
and stank like milk
left in a fridge that had stopped
working long ago.
and yet still.
i am attached to you in an aftermath
that leaves me to pick up the pieces
you left of me
attached like some sick
umbilical cord that refuses to rip
me from your hold.
but how much do i truly Mean to you
if i am merely just
a crumpled up glove box napkin
used to wipe my blood off your lips?
you are free
to walk with your hands covered in
and yet nobody sees it
left in a pool
of red iron spilling
and salted tears
that stick to my face.
i sincerely dont and seriously dont love you anymore
being with you
if icarus had stayed at the sun
and stared it
in the face.
my wings off.
and so i plunged
with my head
on the brink
i wrote you
a letter every day
letters to tell you
just how i feel
written in neat, curved
writing i told you
just how sweet
i thought you were
how you made my heart
letters in which i wrote
with various colors of ink
pouring out my whole being
i wrote you
a letter every day.
i wrote you letters in which
i told you how you made me
i found myself
pressing harder on
than i had before.
creating tears in them
similar in shape
as the ones
inside of me.
i began to send
splattered with tears
from my eyes
as i wrote
bubbling within me.
my last letter
addressed to you
but was blank.
i had none that
into the cracks
a draft i decided to finish because it took a totally different turn than originally intended.
Poems aren't written,
Somewhere in your head the words are waiting,
They're sprawled across the floor,
You just need to pick them up,
Make a path with them,
Let your path guide observers,
And if you can't write,
Walk down somebody's else's path first,
First poem I've written, to anybody who reads this is hope you enjoyed it and it made you day a little better
She was a
He was the sun, she was the moon..
A painful tear leaks from my eye,
It screams a terrible sound,
A sound so loud but unheard from all around,
It flows down my cheek and seeps into the ground,
“Help him”, it cries “he wants to die”