Early Morning

3am
Mind wandering
Looking
Searching
Morpheus, where are you?

Mind exhausted
Heart, tired
Slowly
Gently seeping
Yawn.

I remembered the
Pillow
Buried myself in it
And it smelled like your
Hair

Flooding
Rushing
nostalgia
No,
Nostalgia.

I will never get to sleep.

...but then again

Hopes are always high, always hoping for the best.

*fingers crossed*


Lord, enough of this madness. I can use a little sanity, if it isn't too much to ask. A few more days to go, just a few more. It would be just grand if You let me be tad more happy. I love you.

Suicide

When you jumped off the cliff,
You shouldn't have taken my heart with you.

Purple Heart

Sometimes I ask myself if taking your colored light off of my phone list made any sense. When most of the time I still hope you'd reach me, the pain isn't as unbearable as before. I have friends, I have studies, I have so many concerns nowadays that you aren't priority anymore.

The sad, lingering thought of you though, is still around.

The mere route you take to work, I worry that you might be skimming it any given time of day. I always make sure that even if I scour the whole stretch of road to and from school (and basically wherever I go to and come from as long as I go through that) I'd look my best. Some vain creature I am. Nah. It's maybe because I still want to look beautiful in your eyes, until now.

Even if I'll never hear that from you again.

You've changed. Everybody says so. Your friends, your family. That's normal. Change is inevitable. I don't need you to change. I can even tolerate how sloppy you are with your stuff. I find that normal, too. Sometimes I can get sloppier than sloppy. Goodness. Such disgrace.

There's only one thing in you, about you, I constantly pray for change.


And yet the door isn't shut, merely ajar. The windows are fully open, as if welcoming a return. An indefinite wait, a hundred - maybe even a thousand more years, until it is time.

I pray.

One Gloomy Morning

i woke up

annoyed

wanting to catch another

minute

asleep

went downstairs

and oh,

a puddle of cat

on the couch

how i envy them

went to the fridge

got some milk

went to the sink

barfed

spoiled

lanai

for fresh air

it was raining

dammit

but what the heck

breakfast, i thought

i'd make something up

and then i said, what the heck

food

has long lost its taste

life without meaning

trailing on

since you've been gone

but here i am, living the dream

that i'll soon be happy.

Dear Kuya,

For some reason you make me happy. Alive, rather. Whatever.

But you are the same reason I feel down.

You know what, f*ck it. Your existence haunts me.

Yet your absence kills me.

To the man whom the streets take care of

You are never missed
At the corner of 15th and Tuazon
You sit
In your makeshift bed
Your dining room
Your lounge
Of cardboard

How you make it to our street
I would never know
To sell Mama those umbrellas
Trashed
Left for nothing
Yet she gets them for you
Like new

What do you have for dinner?
Is it scraps of someone else's feast?
Is it the gift of tin you savor?
Is it the sheer happiness you get
From the reveling
In the nothingness
This world offers?