I am not even
a snippet of your poetry.

I am not some adjective
you scribble on the bathroom wall 
unconsciously, for everyone to see.

I am not a euphemism
for the words I’m sorry.

I am not your favorite word her.

This is not how you love me— 
         this is how you do not.

39 | Posted on April 23, 2014

I am missing half of my lungs.

Breathing has indeed become difficult 
ever since you stormed into my life.
You shook my earth
with one of your lopsided smiles,

and like a pack of cigarettes

and a bottle of tequila,
you got me terribly addicted.

When asked what love is, I think,
stars remind me of the way
you bat your eyelashes, the black
in them like curtains in the night sky.
The sun kisses my face in the morning,
and it gets me wondering how
your lips would feel like when

they paint love all over the scars in my skin.

Your fingers are the ocean.
Your body is the sky.
Your voice is home.

I am yours.

Why is it that
whenever I look at you,
my heart always feels like
it’s bracing itself
for another goodbye?

A question I’m too afraid to ask.

58 | Posted on April 23, 2014

Nishigo Sushi & Ramen is a newly opened Japanese restaurant along West Ave. It’s only been a month since they started. Last night, we had dinner there because my brothers and I have been craving for Japanese food for quite a while now. Nishigo is all right, but they’re too expensive for the quality of their food (in my opinion). I’ve tasted better shake sashimi and california maki for a more justified price in other restaurants. Their sashimi tasted like it was kept too long in the freezer, and the california maki wasn’t made purely with Japanese rice. The ramen, however, tasted delicious! After that we went to Highlands Coffee (VIetnamese), and I had my usual coffee jelly freeze and cinnamon cronut. Highlands is far better than Starbucks, trust me.

14 | Posted on April 23, 2014

The sky is awake, and so am I. I don’t know what the deal is with my body clock, but it’s not cooperating with me. I’m far from drowsy. Maybe I should take this chance to write more poems, yes?

19 | Posted on April 22, 2014

I’d rather hear you say
the feelings are no longer there

I grow tired of excuses like
‘It’s not meant to be’
when things stop making sense.

It’s just an easier way out—
almost like a half-assed apology
after cutting someone with a knife,
a safe answer to a question
so that neither of us would feel bad
about the end result.

The lines on our palms change everyday,
and it’s not because our fates
have been written on stone.
They change because
we constantly make decisions for ourselves—
decisions that are either right or wrong.

Stop saying things didn’t work out for us
because they were never meant to, 
as if it justifies the pain and the colossal damage you’ve dealt.

It didn’t work out because you made a choice.

And you chose not to.

22 | Posted on April 22, 2014

The last time I slept over, we had a deep conversation about our past loves. We started at about six a.m. (after he made me watch Indiana Jones: Raiders of the Lost Ark [1981], because ‘You love Star Wars, right? You’re gonna love this! It’s Han Solo with a whip!’), and then we fell asleep on the couch at around nine a.m.

He talked about his ten—yes, ten—exes. How he fell in love with each of them and how they ultimately led to heartaches and break-ups. I was happy because he opened up and told me. That morning, I felt a step closer to unlocking what kind of boy he was. But don’t misunderstand: he’s not a player. 

"I loved them. I never cheated in a relationship before, nor have I been in a non-serious commitment," was what he answered when I asked why he had so many exes. I believe him. 

We talked about our first loves, our ‘what-ifs’, our most recent heart breaks. He reassured me that my past does not define who I am, and then I admitted to having insecurities because I was always the one being left, that I was often involved in casual relationships—“because I’m convenient to be around with”. And it was true: no one’s ever liked me enough to actually want me to be their girlfriend. I’m a bro, no drama involved, no need for labels, just plain fun. That’s how it’s always been with me. That’s what I’ve always settled for.

I told him I’ve only fallen in love three times, and that I am no longer sure whether the feelings I had for them were genuine love. When I told him I didn’t know how to distinguish love from infatuation anymore, he replied, “I do. It’s love when you can see yourself spending your life with that someone in the future.” Then, he made me describe the boy I currently like. I buried my face against a pillow and I ended up crying as I told him about the boy and my unrequited feelings.  

"Maybe you should tell him."
"I don’t want to. It wouldn’t change a thing."
"How would you know that? What if it does?"
"It won’t. He’s in love with someone else."

Little did he know, I was talking about him. I was crying because I could see it: I could see a life with him in the future. I could imagine myself happy. I often dream about us, and in those dreams, the picture is always so vivid: I would be happy.

I was crying because he was never going to see me the same way. 

12 | Posted on April 22, 2014

To be honest, I’m probably one of the clingiest friends you’ll ever have. I’m always the clingy onein our barkada, and even though I am rarely vocal about my feelings, I tend to act mushy around them (I like giving surprise hugs!). For instance, when I’m with my best friends, I act like a little brat (especially around Czarry), because they say I’m “alagain”, and I am prone to accidents. The girl I’m with in these photos is my other best friend, Joselle, who is actually a year lower than Czarry and I. I met her when she was in sixth grade, and I, a frosh in high school. I was actually friends with her older sister, but the two of us became closer (and eventually, inseparable). Long story short: I’ve known this girl since forever, and though we’re quite sick of each other’s faces (kidding), we still act like sisters. 

A few days ago, she came over, and the first thing she did was log on to Tumblr. Yes, we literally did not really speak for a while because we were both busy with our blogs. When we finally got bored, we looked at each other, and then we did what we usually do every time she’s at my place: we played dress-up. 

"Did you ever think we’d do these things, back when we were in highschool?" I mused. We laughed over this for a while.

"Actually, no. Never. Back in high school, we were awkward ducklings,” she replied. “I never really thought we’d be painting our faces with make-up in your room and dressing up and doing photo shoots, looking like girls.” 

Years ago, we were… well, we didn’t like make-up. HAHA. We didn’t act like girls. We were both boyish (I still am though!), and we loathed skirts and frills and laces. You get the idea. Years ago, we couldn’t imagine ourselves being kikay. We used to not give a hoot about our looks. We always settled for that haggard-hobo look.

We changed a lot—yeah, we did. But I like how we changed together. And how, even after all these years, there are still things about us that remained the same. I plan to keep it that way. Like I said, I’m one of the clingiest friends you’ll ever have in your lifetime.

10 | Posted on April 22, 2014

12:00 A.M.

Sometimes, I miss you,
but not because I want you back.

It’s just that the memories
we shared were beautiful—
and we put them all to waste
without any second thoughts.

(I still wish we had a closure.

But I guess we never really had
anything to put an end to when we
never really started on anything.)

Sometimes, I miss you,
but not because I want to feel 
your hand up my spine again.

It’s just that I still keep wondering
why you chose to do what you did,
why you left even when you promised me
you would stay.

Sometimes, I miss you,
but not because I still have feelings for you.

It’s just that maybe we could’ve ended things better.

26 | Posted on April 20, 2014

Anonymous asked:
people who entangle themselves in the kind of love that destroys are really in deep trouble. love shouldn't be destructive in the first place. love is built on understanding, trust, faith, humility, respect, patience and other principles. love is never easy, and it's something people have to work hard for to sustain. people who think that depending on the person they love--clinging onto them, clasping onto their souls like they own them--are really scary people.

I think love is just as destructive as hate. It is impossible to not get anything broken when you love: because when you love, you open several parts of you that you have never opened up to anyone before. And because love has the tendency to destroy, it’s only natural that some people would believe it to be a terrifying experience. Love is pain—and hope—romanticized. 

10 | Posted on April 20, 2014

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