Poetry

#21 Give

Don’t give me that smile
like nothing has ever happened
to my heart. The heart you owned,
let loved, and let go,
the one that’s been waiting
alone all along.

Don’t give me those eyes
like I’ve never wandered in them
for days, just like they’ve never
followed me in dreams.
Those that stayed in my head
haunt me while I am awake.

Don’t give me half-hearted certainties when I could bare my soul to you.
I am ashamed of how
I can love you, and I never want
love to feel like a sin,
but how you do!

Don’t give me anything
if in the end you only want
to take everything back again.
Give me nothing that I couldn’t keep
like you, like us. Oh, us!
Something we are, sometimes.


Photography by vonmedeza.

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Poetry

#20 Reality’s bite

Days come
& thoughts of you
never go.

I run around
in arbitrary lines of time
trying to drown you
in hot coffee cups,
in half-hearted smiles,
in loud, overconscious laughs;
always attempting to wake up
from this dream of
not being found with you.

I have grown numb
to Reality’s bites.

Days come and I stay so high
in love- yours, mine, ours,
it doesn’t matter, should it matter?
It is gone now.
Please go now.
Take it all away with you now.


Wrote this with Melodrama’s The Louvre, Writer in the Dark, and The Supercut on repeat.
Photography unknown.

Poetry

#19 Tell me more

Tell me a cure
to these sudden frantic bursts
of emotions that I used to know
so well I lived in them,
every day I am touched by them
through you,
until you
chose to leave.

Tell me a lesson
on a potion for forgetting
how the heart skips a beat
to that song we used to sing,
to the smell of your cologne
that I used to breathe,
until breathing
becomes cheap.

Tell me words
any other one will do
to make up for the loss
of promises that I believed
turned into broken pieces
that I bleed,
you know what I need;
words.


Photography by vonmedeza.

Uncategorized

On my side of the truth, love

Every day I cannot help but think that we become more and more irrelevant. Outdated. Just a story in the past. I know this, and I’ve accepted this. 

I have always wanted to talk to you. I have so many words. Sometimes they are related to how we ended, sometimes I wish I could tell you about ordinary things from my day just like nothing has ever happened, just like when we were friends.

There are times when I do not want to remember anymore, I just want to start anew. But every time I would try and believe again, and think of possible ways to reach out, I cannot help but think I had become irrelevant to you since God-knows-when. You’ve long stopped believing in me and grew tired of what I might possibly say.

Say that all of these are nothing but pathetic assumptions, correct me in your head if you need to, but everybody knows that you have been so good. Very good. In moving on. In showing the world that I am nothing to you. Acting like we had never existed before. I could only react to the actions that you show, and the fact that you never tried to reach out to me can only mean two things: that you are as hella afraid as I am or that I am just not worth it anymore. 

I asked you once, Why are you not the type who initiates first? You told me not to force it, and to just let it happen on its own pace. I know you’re thinking that there’s a right time for everything. I… don’t know. 

I didn’t want to get back together, I don’t. I just wanted to clear the air. I just wanted to speak to you honestly. I want to hear about all the resentment that you keep. I also want you to understand me. I know I said hurtful words to you. I know there were times I overreacted. I’ve judged you in ways more than one. And I wish you could have understood better. I felt that you didn’t acknowledge that I was hurting, expecting us to be okay after everything that happened. I wish you could have helped me by trying a little more. But you shut me off when I shut you off. And it’s fucked up because even if I know that I’m only reacting to your coldness, I know that I became even colder myself. Until everything became irreparable. I was too filled with pride and resentment that I didn’t want to do anything anymore. And I always get the impression of how irrelevant I’ve become to you. 

In all honesty, I badly want to blame you. I feel like you have been a hypocrite in ways more than one. I know that you are blaming me in your own ways as well.

All I wanted was clarity, something that you couldn’t give me because “it is not the right time yet.” I cannot be here anymore, and not being here anymore is giving up that quest for clarity. Do you understand? From here, I will have to grow more and more indifferent towards you, towards everything about us. I will have to just accept your silence, and rest without expecting for any peace. 

There is no right time. But, who am I to tell you that? Who am I for you to trust and believe? I just want to say that I’ve waited for you to be, for once, be braver than you think you are, by facing me and telling me exactly what you feel. With all honesty, with no fear of judgement.

I loved you. And I swear to God I wanted to keep that even if we don’t end up together, even if we find new people to love. But I’m too filled with failed expectations, aching pain, and countless disappointments that I do not know what to do but accept that this is now our fate. 

I’ve never been so weak. I’ve never been so lazy and passive. I’ve never been so sad. And I’d like to believe it’s because I’ve never loved and trusted and risked for someone like I did for you. Maybe there is no cure when you choose that there is nothing to cure. There’s nothing to redeem when you believe nothing is worthy anymore. I have to let it go. 

Poetry

#18 Sidepool melancholy

Sidepool sitting,
trying to keep my cool.
Rain is falling but
nothing can be colder
than you to me,
and me to you.

Sidepool watching
a girl drunk-crying
Partly because of some silly boy,
but I know better that
more tears are for her
and her love alone.

Sidepool listening
to the people talking.
I know what they’re thinking,
that all I think about is you.
They are probably right,
and still loving you is wrong.

Sidepool realizations,
I’ve showed up to myself
many more times than you ever did.
Drowning, no one there to save me
I’m afraid to dive right in, but
believe again maybe, eventually, I know.

Epiphanies

Saved drafts while I am preparing myself for what’s next to say/I hope all of you knows yourself better each day

Maybe I was mad, not sad. People tend to resort to anger and defensiveness when they are in pain. To no longer have someone you loved and trusted in your life is painful. Learning patterns and then needing yourself to forget them is painful.  Losing a friend and a piece of future that could have worked is pain. Realizing that you’ve lost yourself and worse, that you didn’t know who you are at all is heartbreaking.  So maybe I was really mad, not sad.   I held on to anger for it was difficult to believe that there was ever love in the first place.  I held on to it because I didn’t want to forget you, to forget that we ever happened at all. And anger is poison.  It eats you out.  It blocks your senses and your ability to be soft.  I chose pain because the world didn’t like softness.  I had to be angry because you said I was too soft for you. It makes me more mad, and I can’t do this to myself anymore.  I have to stop choosing pain even if that means finally letting you go.  Finally letting everything go.  I can’t be angry anymore even if that’s the easiest way to keep you.  I should be able to believe that I want you to be happy.  I must believe in that happiness again.  You deserve it, because I once wanted to give everything just for you to have it. I wish I could believe again. 

May 14, 2017
Sunday
Calatagan, Batangas

Epiphanies

On cooling off from yourself and being back again

How have you been? I feel bad for being gone for so long. Everyday and night I’ve been thinking of missing my blog and a free time for writing. But, to be honest, I have the following reasons for not being here for a while:

1. May is the final month in school. Mine ended last May 23, and I have received almost all of my grades for the last semester before my practicum. There have been unexpected things that occurred with regards to my academics this sem, but I have gone through a lot that I really don’t feel the need to be sad about these things. This is related to the second reason. Read on. 

2. I took a break from writing because I was anxious. These posts can testify: 

A lot of it was related to the broken heart I am healing. A lot of it still is. For a while, wanting to forget about the boy I loved and to truly, totally, finally move on got me thinking that I should stop blogging. That I should stop writing.  If I wanted to forget about him, about the pain, and everything that comes with it, I should stop talking about it in the things I write.  But, that is just dumb.  

I am thankful that I’ve been finding ways around my overthinking these days, in ways that empowers me and my happiness. As what is reflected in the poem I wrote before this entry, I realized that I have a new time, the strength to end things, and a chance to another start. We can start anew anytime we like, especially when we feel we are ready and strong enough. 

Finishing an overloaded semester whilst crying and breaking down 3x a day wasn’t easy. And perhaps, the fact that I was able to make it through means something. It means that I have been strong, and that to make it here, able to talk about it, write about it, and share it with you is also being strong. I do not mean to find ways to prove that I am strong, because I believe that we are all strong and do not have to prove it to anyone. I guess all that I am saying is that, all the pain and grief you have experienced will really find its ending eventually. And when that time comes, a stronger you comes out.  But more than being strong, you become more of a believer of yourself, of your heart, of your capacity to feel waves of emotions and to be able to appreciate them. Healing a broken heart can really change you in so many ways. I am still finding out mine but so far, I am in a good place and I am looking forward to be writing for myself and for you. Without any reservations whether I am talking about past loves or new hopes. Thank you for sticking until this part, and I am happy I am back.