It’s the rainy days.

I think that some of the people in my life are a lot like rain. When the weather is good, I selflessly push them away. I never really understand their worth until the unforgiving summer comes. And  the heat of everything had dried me out of nothing. But it’s when the drought finally had me craving for a drop of their presence —that’s when I realize I need them.

Paper poems for my family

This is a poem that I wrote for my relatives who are selflessly working abroad. Still, it served as an e-card sent last Christmas.

Truly, their sacrifices in giving their family a good life will always be treasured. It’s not easy being away but they pull through for the love of their family.

To Gab, who’s going to fly tomorrow.

Just have to let them words go…

I fell in love with… caramel bars

Love is like eating a caramel bar. You walk-away promising yourself that one is enough, that you had enough. But it doesn’t matter, because the next thing you know, you’re halfway towards it. You long for him, you miss him. Until one becomes two, three, to empty. He is empty. And you look around the corners of this brown box, convincing yourself that there’s gotta be more, there’s gotta be something left of him. It’s then you realize that all that you are is just a sugar rush. That love is not here to stay because there were never lows, but only highs. The feeling of being high on his sweetness. But its just temporary, you are temporary.

My box of happiness.

I guess I understand now that I am in love with Caramel Bars. Because underneath its rough edges and “peanutty” textured layer is a place for a familiar softness. A place that will always have a home in my heart. And everything else — the warmth, sweetness, and perfection — makes me want to need it, forever. I know now that he is my caramel bar, and I love him.

Rhymes, People, Poetry

(This is what happens during my 3 AM dates with blank pages and MS word)

When I was being trained to write a poem, I was told that the “end” words don’t have to rhyme. And I should use it sparingly or it’s going to look cheeky. So this morning, I realized that maybe rhymes and people have things in common. Like two persons don’t really have to rhyme to complement each other. That maybe, two individuals don’t have to be so alike in sounds and rhythms to support each other. And that the two most indifferent words (people) put together, one after the other, is not so bad at all.

Maybe, sometimes it’s our differences that complete our story. And it’s in the unfamiliarity of things and people that turns half-finished stanzas in to perfect poems.

To the person I fell in love with (the nth time around)

Before feelings become words
Before my thoughts turn into careless verbs
Before I ran out of things to say
Before I finally have the courage to say what I really feel
Before I get too attached
Before we waste another minute 
Before we get tired of missing each other
–
Of online play fighting
Of answering ridiculous riddles
Of sleep talking at 3 AM about Pokemon
–
Before we miss out on people
Before our completely different futures become one
Before the word “before” becomes our present
Before the worst
Before I forget everything you said that night

Before I utter the words “I love you”
Before I end this poem
I say in the most nonchalant way I can
Thank you, I let go.

It wasn’t love, and never will be.

What is love in the eyes of the careless? What is love when you’ve only breathed the one-sided kind? What is love in the light of impatience and distance?

Answer? Maybe it wasn’t love at all. It was never love that we both felt. It was just an illusion that lived only in our memories.

Now, he only exist in the lyrics of the song I’ve written for him. And our story — the unforgiving love story — will always be a tragedy that I must learn from.

Relationships and Math

You and I are like Math. I am always careless when it comes to you. I’ve studied and understood all formulas. Enough to make me believe that I’ll be fine. But when it finally comes down to the test, I end up getting rattled and pressured. And everything else is forgotten and lost. All it took was one irresponsible move to spark a train of wrong answers. A train of wrong reasons in our case. And I end up losing it all. I always lose it all. But I know I wasn’t stupid, I was just … careless.

What kind of sorcery is this?

(I was so heartbroken so I wrote something about our unforgiving Statistics Midterm Exam. The results are in tomorrow, I hope I pass)

What If ?

They say that when the one you love leaves, they take parts, and in the worst of circumstances, wholes of you. And you are left feeling empty and lost that you almost seem hollow. Undead enough that surviving a day in school, chatting with friends, and careless songs — those unforgiving ones that remind you of him, of the us, and we’s — seem such a decent achievement. 

But what if he (she) suddenly returns? Is being stupidly strong, enough to ask him (her) to take that part or wholes of you back?

Would you be choking on those promises of moving on? Would you still remember when you swore not to engage in this kind of relationship… ever again? Would you slap him straight in the face, left and right, up and down?

Or does one look from his bottomless eyes make you fall in one infinite direction?