They said you choked

the barrel with a towel

so that the gun couldn't scream

your intentions as it kissed

 

your chest. You didn't want anyone

to see your pain and save you.

You wanted to prove

it was too late for that.

 

They said the bullet pierced

through you and all the blood

was on your back

as you laid in bed still

 

in your sleepwear.

They said you looked peaceful

if not for the ants that formed

a trail into your eyes.

 

They said you wrote a letter

to your boyfriend saying

he was yours and yours alone.

And you wrote another

 

to your loved ones. Only,

I didn't read it. We weren't friends.

Just very distant family members

family reunions couldn't get together.

 

And I didn't want to know you

that way. You probably didn't expect

me  to show up in your funeral

and learn all these stories.

 

If we spoke more,

you would've told me

your heart was made up of petals

that withered away and fell.

 

And I would've nodded

and promised not to tell.

 

for Venice

 

 

 

Ngunit ang pinakamasakit e yung di ka tatablan. Noong lumayo ako, nagtaka ka ngunit di mo ako hinanap. Wala namang magbabago, alam ko. Wala namang mawawala. Pero minsan, iyon ang gusto ko. Minsan gusto kong mabigatan naman ang mundo sa mga yabag ko. Tulad ng kung paanong mabigat ang iyong alaala sa isip ko.

Ngayong natuto na ako kung paano lumimot parang unti-unti nang gumagaan ang aking pakiramdam. Ngayon, parang may napakalaki nang kulang. 

Stream

1.
Because my spirituality is nothing else than the blue fluid soul in my body is nothing else than the slave of this electric mind is nothing else than the beggar for faith I find myself inside chapels punishing my knees on cushioned pews. Mundane isn’t it? Well, these atoms inside me all Carbon and Hydrogen and Oxygen and Nitrogen seems conscious that’s why my peasant cells seems conscious that’s why this being ‘I am’ seems conscious that’s why the world with all its inherent spirits seems conscious that this root nothing but this root of this particular tree is absurd that’s why I end up dreaming and disturbed. Oh Sartre, how existentialist can one get? Tell me about things such as faith and belief and conviction and I’ll babble on like this.

2.
Let me tell you a story about a boy. He is climbing the overpass just outside Ateneo to reach the other side of the street filled to the brim with food establishments that sell the perfect way to a very round belly. In the middle of ascent and descent, there is a cemented path lined with children with plastic cups, children with banana-Qs, children with nothing else to do but wait for falling coins. They steal nothing. The boy believes this. The boy believes things he sees; there, a child is in front of him with eyes, huge eyes, speaking eyes. Kuya, penge barya, he asks. This child doesn’t beg. From atop the overpass the boy sees a city of smoke, a sea of headlights and brake lights, and a dingy world that adopted these kids. The boy reaches inside his pockets. The child seems more excited, kuya, sige na, and extends his arm as if it was not a part of his body. The child wears a sando and shorts and slippers and a dash of innocence on his cheeks. The boy gives him two one-peso coins. The boy descends into that city of smoke. That’s their heaven, he thinks. Sometimes he feels his soul is somewhere up there too.

3.
Now the need for the third person for the previous story is a pretty obvious need for a mask of protection is a pretty obvious need for a buffer for sharpened sorrows is a pretty obvious need for social engagement let me admit this much I want to help. This solipsism is not as sacred as one thinks, do you need me to elaborate? You see, I say that I’m an expert when it comes to morality but I never know how to apply it when it comes to reality and the face of the other seems distorted with eyes bulging with the tongue of a snake and numbers for a face but I think I do good deeds when it comes to things I can rationalize like I have homework due for tomorrow come again when this heart is heavier and I’ll open the door and we’ll talk like we’re best friends but I think that will never happen, when? It comes to this: kaibigan, someone is looking for you, look the stars are asking you to love.

4.
Will you let me say that I’ve found love again? I once saw a pretty girl’s smile and I made it mine. Love was my childhood friend and she agreed. She’s wonderful. Please don’t ask me to explain. Describing love never works. Will you just believe that once, under a lamppost I kissed love and the way her lips moved, like she was tightening a knot on my heart? My fingers praising the strands of her hair, her palms resting on my chest, and everything a blur of lights and smoke and ashes… This affection, lambing, is addictive; this Neverland in a corner of the street is the place I never want to leave. But she had to go; love always has to go because the stoplight says so. Before she left, I asked love when she will kiss me again. Next time, she said. Love, I’m waiting.

5.
This is my excuse: this is not something to be known, there is no learning here. Have you ever felt the wonder of seeing a very big moon? And you utter a ‘yes’ without anyone asking a question? There, that’s my point. In my room, the door is always open so that you’ll know I don’t like being alone. Come, let’s talk about things we revere but do not understand.

Once, on my way home, I thought I saw the girl I'll love forever. A few more steps before a double-take. Fated parallel lives lived on. Maybe I'll see her again. In a world only I'll remember.

marahil mahal mo na ako.

Ewan ko ba kung bakit hindi ako makakilos ngayon. Wala akong ibang ginagawa kundi gusutin ang kobre ng kama ko, pagulong-gulong, nagtatakip ng unan sa ulo, pinaniniwala ang lahat ng nagpapaalam na nananaginip pa ako. Sabihin nating pagpapahinga kahit pagtulog lang ang ehersisyo ko. Puwede na ring pagluluksa. Ngunit pagluluksa ng ano? Wala namang namatay. Sa katunayan nagagawa ko pang ngumiti, tumawa 'pag may nagpapatawa. Ngunit sa bawat ika-11 oras, gusto ko nang magtago mula sa mga orasan. Para akong nakatayo sa ibawbaw ng mundo habang lumulubog ang araw. Sa ibaba, walang gumagalaw.

To my Wall Stuck Friend

I remember when we were young
and we thought we were friends
with sadness because it spoke
to us everynight through our head-
phones in the dark. Delivering
what we thought we had. It mattered
that we had so many nightmares.
That our windows were always open
and we invited the lonely night to join us.
Then. And I remember a few fireworks
after, we talked about growing up
as if we hadn't yet. And the only
storms we had are those we brewed
in teacups. Do you know that the tired
car speaker still echoes the only cd
you ever gave me again and again?
It can only mean I'm trying my best
to memorize all the things
you would have said. After the many years
I knew you, the five years I wish I filmed,
your smile is still what gets me by
during nights when I lay beside
selfish black holes hogging blankets
and happy thoughts into another
dimension. Now I only have blank pages
and tag-along stuborness and with these
I pledge allegiance to the memories
I have yet to forget, to empty
picture frames in closets we don't open
when we move out, to this aching head
your shoulders had to carry everytime.

Your walking burden.

Lullaby to Get Me By Without Choking You

I think I spent a few years
last night. Dreaming up
several eternities to exchange
for moments to get you back
on that box pierced with swords
and curses. I’m thinking
of us tonight. You, cutting
fingernails in the dark. Me,
trying to scrape off the memories
of your mouth. Your tongue
in all my favorite places.
Your ghost is in my face
again. I return contorted smiles
with clenched teeth just for you.
I’m holding back things:
your reward, my lips. This song,
I’ll make it weave in and out
of your ears ‘til it fills
every nook and cranny
of your insides with these
words. I find comfort
in knowing that you’ll die
someday. And in your tomb-
stone I’ll engrave: she left
her heart unattended. Bent,
and splendidly splayed out.
Tonight your bedroom light
must be busted, and you’re sitting
next to your window, wide
open. And you’re speaking
to caressing curtains again.

My Heart is the Worst Kind of Weapon
Fall Out Boy

Spent most of last night,
Dragging this lake,
For the corpses of all my past mistakes.
Sell me out, the joke's on you.
We are salt and you are the wound.

Empty another bottle,
And let me tear you to pieces.
This is me wishing you into the worst situations.
I'm the kind of kid that can't let anything go,
But you wouldn't know a good thing if it came up and slit your throat.

Whoa. Whoa. Oooh. Whoa. Whoa.

Your remorse hasn't fallen on deaf ears,
Rather ones that just don't care.
'Cause I know,
That you're in between arms somewhere.
Next to heartbeats where you shouldn't be asleep.
Now I'll teach you a lesson for keeping secrets from me.

Take your taste back,
Peel back your skin,
And try to forget how it feels inside.
You should try saying no once in a while.
Oh, once in a while.

Take your taste back,
Peel back your skin,
And try to forget how it feels inside.
You should try saying no once in a while.
Oh, once in a while.

And did you hear the news?
I could dissect you and gut you on this stage.
Not as eloquent as I may have imagined,
But it will get the job done.
You're done.

Every line is plotted and designed,
To leave you standing on your bedroom window's ledge.
And everyone else that it hits,
That it gets to,
Is nothing more than collateral damage.

Take your taste back,
Peel back your skin,
And try to forget how it feels inside.
You should try saying no once in a while.
Oh, once in a while.

Take your taste back,
Peel back your skin,
And try to forget how it feels inside.
You should try saying no once in a while.
Oh, once in a while.