May 2012
5 posts
Personal Post
There was this 15-year old hitting on me. It was kind of cute at first, but it felt really weird after a while. Persistent little thing.
Well, whatever. Good night, lovelies.
Tonight,
I will crack my ribcage open
to make enough room
because heat makes things expand
and you, my dear,
keep my heart warm.
I wrote a song at the sound of your heartbeat.
Anonymous asked: Post a picture of yourself please. I have been following you for months but I have no clue what you look like.
April 2012
1 post
2 tags
To C,
When my heart becomes too heavy to hold and is on the verge of combustion, I bid you to slit it open. Let everything fall out: fine point pens, highfives, notebooks, French fries, aquarelle — give me some time to get used to it — a Saturday afternoon, The Smiths, go-karts, bear hugs, a Friday sunset, Emily Dickinson, thrift stores, flowers that say, “I dare you to love me.” — let me catch...
March 2012
10 posts
1 tag
To C,
On the bed, I lie.
It is evening as I write. The rain has conquered the heat, but still hesitant as ever. Oblivious to the romantics waiting for it to pour itself to their fragile bodies—to make a fairy tale scene.
The world may be moving slower or faster depending on how you feel, but when asked me to reconsider, you must know that I did.
If I see your reflection walking away from...
Anonymous asked: What is your favorite Murakami book?
Now it is raining.
I am heading out
to catch some words
and fill the hollow
of my collar bones.
All for you.
Last summer—
Not knowing what to say,
I wandered around the city,
stopped by the post office
to mail you an empty envelope.
Anonymous asked: You have a beautiful mind, I like you.
You are visual poetry. I guess that’s my awkward way of saying that you look really nice today.
Oh, but even stars die. Stay right here.
1 tag
“I-I’m not really good at this—talking, I mean. I’ve always been better at writing, but I’ll try to-“ “No, no. Don’t. Don’t even try. You have your way with words. I know you would probably just say something that would make my heart warm without even intending to do it. You don’t have to say anything. The only thing I need to know is...
3 tags
To C,
I have regressed to a state I cannot define. I have feelings that have yet to be categorized. The only tangible thing you can find are the cracks in my voice to match the cracks you made on my walls. Forgive me; my words lack the grace you always possess, and I can only offer lines so elementary-phrased that I am tempted to forgo writing this.
My friends asked me what I have been doing...
3 tags
I haven’t written anything new since a month ago. Every time I try to, I find your essence dripping from my pen in every stroke I make.
I can’t think of the right words and my fingers are sore from spending too much time trying to find them.
This needs to stop.
February 2012
2 posts
2 tags
Carla Bruni - L’excessive This reminds me of...
2 tags
Oh, to be fifteen again. Swimming in a neurotic pool of bravery and naivety. Kissing you on the mouth like I meant it, like I wasn’t sorry at all. Oh, to be fifteen again.
January 2012
5 posts
There is more to give
than coffee-stained silence
and second-hand lines
stuttered apologies
and sloppy rhymes—
to reach
the narrow confines
of our hearts.
1 tag
Note
I often say the word fuck when I get stressed and feel that the world is unfair. It gives me a sense of calmness knowing that I have managed to do something evil by cussing.
In those moments, I am no longer a caged bird.
So I say, fuck, fuck, fuck.
Solitude is good.
I need space; the tightness in my ribcage wouldn’t let my heart pound.
I lost my free-writing notebook in which I’ve written some personal entries. I don’t know what to feel, to be honest.
November 2011
3 posts
Leave
before our hearts decay
in each other’s care,
before the venom seeps
into the core of our affections—
before I change my mind.
Forgive me, I had to leave before I get caught up with you and your nicotine-laced smile.
With one stroke, full becomes fall.
October 2011
6 posts
I tuck my heart in a pocket full of sighs as you stare at her with your bedroom eyes.
I will try to seduce you with my pen
because when my words are written,
I do not stutter.
A pregnant pause— between what you cannot acknowledge and what I do not dare ask.
Firebending
Warrior, here I am
waiting for you to accept my
heart, an auburn flame.
2 tags
This is just a small crush. It’s not like I feel like pouncing on you and kissing you senseless.
August 2011
1 post
Your mind is as bizarre as the pattern of my dress.
July 2011
2 posts
Anonymous asked: Hi. Are you still alive? No new entry for 2 weeks now.
2 tags
There are words in my head and they are begging to be written.
June 2011
6 posts
Here’s to the aftertaste we get right after reading our favorite poems. To the unanswerable questions they leave to our dissatisfied hearts. Ferment yourself, favorite poem. Please, ferment yourself.
My rib cage rattles when it hears your voice, like a wind chime trying to welcome you home.
This is for the moment you realize that you’re time zones apart. And the shrilling of your alarm clock seems no match for the cries of your jet-lagged hearts.
1 tag
You said this is starting to become too painful for you, like a paper cut that never fails to half-tickle and partially tear your skin apart. I beg to disagree. This isn’t a paper cut. This is acupuncture. It hurts us but ultimately, it cures us.
May 2011
2 posts
You put a hand on my shoulder to soothe the ache within but it feels like you are only pushing me away from you. The heat from your hand used to make me feel alive but now it is burning my soul.
Things change. I get it now.
WatchConcerto No. 2, 3rd Movement - Friedrich Seitz
Performed at the Sinulog Hall of Rizal Public Library; May 13, 2011
It has been years since I played this piece. So when I knew this was the Suzuki piece assigned to us for the concert, I was ecstatic. I had fun playing it that night. Our professor changed some of the dynamics a bit. We applied accelerando in the last few bars and instead of...
April 2011
7 posts
To silence,
I will always be your apprentice.
1 tag
I do a lot of silly things.
I don’t refer thin and wispy clouds as cirrus, but as lost souls. I don’t wish on shooting stars, but on faint, dying stars instead. I know no one wishes on dying stars, so I guess my wishes can get granted faster. You tried to simplify things, while I overanalysed and reached into conclusions that weren’t true. I thought that everything would be okay when I’m with you. I still...
An outline of some sort
Just an outline.
“You are a Psychology major,” he suddenly began. ”You try to study human behavior and the inner workings of their mind. You probably even know how to manipulate them,” he continued with a sigh.
Slowly kicking the grass, he went on. “You are also a writer. In less than a minute, you could conjure the best lines that we non-writers cannot even think...
1 tag
Tonight will be different. I will not linger on the past. I will not think about the obsolete. I will let go.
Tonight will be different.
Mixed signals aren't my thing.
Play coy if you want to but stop alternately stepping forward and backward as if you’re dancing a Sinulog dance.
1 tag
An Offering
Chocolate bars and ice cream cakes,
Cavities on a wisdom tooth,
Clever trick.