Proximity 

You disclaimed,”Stay away, young lover,

Don’t stand too close to my flames.” 
But I never was keen on instruction, 

So, I walked right ahead.
I drank in your smoke,

‘Til it kissed my lungs dry
I let your flames lick my skin, 

‘Til it wore me down to my bones
I stood closer as you started to flicker. 

I gave what’s left of me to feed your flame.
And as most tales of flame and men arrive at the end, 

I was but reduced to a pile of ash. 

Pagsulat Tungkol sa Hindi Pagsulat 

Nanilaw na lahat ng papel na aking inimbak para sa pagsusulat. Ang dating tila kulang na mga kuwadernong aking binili, ngayon ay labis labis na, nasa sulok ng lamesa, nangongolekta ng alikabok. 

Natuyo na lahat ng tinta ng aking mga panulat. Sa takot ko noong maubusan ng ipangsusulat ng mga kwento, ala-ala, at saloobin, naghakot ako ng mga panulat na iba’t ibang kulay, para lang matapatan nito ang bahaghari kong pagiisip. 

Ngunit anong napala ng lahat ng aking binili, inimbak, inipon? 

Saan napunta ang mga salitang dapat lumabas sa mga panulat, na dapat mabasa sa mga papel? 

Naluma narin ba ang mga saloobin? 

Natuyo narin ba ang mga salita?

Kapag biniyak mo ang aking bungo at sinilip ang aking utak, tiyak akong agiw, alikabok, at mga nabulok na ala-ala nalang ang madadatnan. 

Demand and Supply 

There are times-

Often times

When I need you, 

I choose to be silent.

There are times when I need you, 

But I choose to look away.

There are times when I need you,

But choose to tinker with my phone.

There are times when I need you,

When you are not within arm’s reach.  

There are times when I need you, 

But choose to walk away. 

There are times when I need you,

But deny myself the truth that I do.

There are times when I need you,

When I shouldn’t be

Because I’m scared

Of the time that you might need me,

But I can’t be there for you. 


Because i’m scared 

-To need 

-To want 

-To want to need 

-To need to want 

…You.

Holding Stares

You were right in front of me 
Looking straight into my eyes 
Never breaking contact
And I..
I looked-locked eyes 
Stifled all urges to smile
Oh, the irony of having to look away 
Simply because your eyes were luring me in 
As a siren would fish for fishermen
I feared that if I had held my stare 
Longer than a blink and a half 
I might not ever let you leave my sight.

The Bare and the Broken

Days, hours, minutes spent
Your words cease to be just words
But a beacon for this lost sailor’s heart.
Talking of life, of love, of words alike.
Stitching my wounds from your own heartstrings.
You strip out of your skin,
Baring only your soul.
A beauty I had only hoped to see
With both my eyes shut.
It was in your purest state that I realized
I choose to spend fifty summers with you
Over an eternity without the sunshine that only you bring.

Waiting for Daybreak

We needed sleep, but chose to set it aside.
We were lying down, bodies on opposite ends of your bed, heads next to each other.
We were just there, staring at the upper mattress instead of stars,
Accompanied by nothing but our loud imagination.
We didn’t care if we slurred out our words.
We didn’t mind that it was four in the morning and we were still awake.
Whenever we ran out of things to say, we’d lie in silence ’til you play your secret songs.
We took a sip in each other’s private mug of thought.
We found comfort in that unfamiliar state of being.

For a few hours, we were in our own little space,
A world for only two.
We were a breath away from each other,
Waiting for day break.

Sticks, Stones, Broken Bones

Your words make my fists gravitate towards my face,
again and again.

Your words make my knuckles kiss my tender cheeks torridly,
until red streaks roll down the sides of my mouth.

Your words turn my head into a skeletal wrecking ball
against the bathroom walls.

Your words keep me revolving around the same orbit of misery.

But never will you see the scars,
Never will you see the bruises,
Only idle eyes and a toothsome smile.

Lost Words

She has lost her words.

Words that were once the pillows she surrendered to, at night;
Words that were once her one way ticket out of a crashing day;
Words that once carved monuments out of her trumpeting thoughts;
Words that once intimately spoke to faces she had never met;
Words that once had a way of making strangers feel as she felt.

Gone are the days when strangers wear her shoes as they read her words.
Gone are the days when strangers felt the punches she threw on herself.
Gone are the days when even death was colourful under her pen.

Now, there is nothing but this void of incoherent ramblings,
Poorly punctuated,
Versed in a juvenile attempt to retrieve the lost words,
Unfit to be called literature,
Unworthy to be read by eyes of even the most innocent.

Words have turned shallow,
A mere puddle to the oceans she once spoke of.
Words have turned sour.
Writing, now, is a mere knife to the heart.
Writing, now, is nothing but hours of staring at blank pages
Writing, now, is the first line of an idea,
Scratched off after the last letter has been written.
Writing, now, is taking her favourite book and painting over the pages.

Writing – all she does is unwrite.
She unwrites all the sadness that trickled down her cheeks.
She unwrites all the love that resonated in her ribcage.
She unwrites all the anger that broke her coffee mugs.

She writes with all the words she doesn’t have;
Those words she lost,
Words she cannot write,
Words that will remain unspoken.

Easier Hurt than Heard

It’s easier to hear a ringing in your ear after you got hit in the head;
Easier than having to sit and listen to someone give up on you.
It’s easier to hear glass breaking against your knuckles;
Easier than to have someone put words in your mouth like they know you.
It’s easier to hear your bones cracking as you tumble down the stairs;
Easier than never hearing from the person you hold dear, ever again.
It’s just easier to hear things being destroyed
Than having to feel something inside of you being broken.

Love in 140 Characters

Love is not said nor felt.
Love is said but not felt.
Love is not said but felt.
Love is both said and felt.
Love is
Either
Neither
Both.