Johanna

When he told you he loved you, you stopped.
Your heart, when it should have been beating for joy, took a momentary pause.
Your breath, when it should have been rapid, stayed in your chest for a moment.
Your brain, when it should have been a 24/7 functioning organ, ceased all its operations.
All for those three monosyllabic words: “I love you.”

It shouldn’t been like this,
Your response shouldn’t have been this much
But for someone who has spent her life picking up
The shards of broken glass she once called her soul
And using it to build a wall of protection
Against all the emotions that ripped through her life
All those years ago,
Those three little words are the beginning of the crack
In the protective barrier sheltering you.

As he whispered sweet nothings in your ear
Each word rolling off his tongue smoothly
You have to pull away and remind yourself
Of all the sleepless nights you spent
Crying on your bed
Trying to drown your cries
On your pillows as your body wracked with each sob you heave
Remind yourself of the times
You stood in the rain
Wishing each drop to cleanse away the pain
Praying for the sky to open up a little more
Just a little more
As though you wanted to have someone to feel
Just how miserable you are
Remind yourself of all the times
You stayed under water for a little too long
Hoping the waters will fill your lungs
Begging for anything, anything to fill up the empty spaces inside you.

You have been a hollow shell for so long and
It just feels so good to be able to feel again
It has been so long since someone noticed
The curve of your smile as you read something in the book you’re holding
Too long since someone sat by you as you hid in your favourite corner
Too long since someone cared enough to switch on the lights
In the otherwise candle-lit room that is your life.

So you hold on to him
Let him inside your life
Let him shake and break the foundations of the wall you built
Let him pick up the broken pieces of your soul
Let the emotions flow back again
Let him fill all the empty spaces inside of you
You believed in his love
Revelled in the attention in his gaze
Let his lips kiss away the poison in your mouth.

You drowned in the ocean of his promises
Made him your safety net
You didn’t even notice the knife
He had pulled out, trying to cut the rope
That binds him to you
Didn’t even notice that when he turned on the lights
He stepped on your candle and stamped its flames out
Didn’t even notice that when he picked up your broken pieces
He didn’t put it back together – he simply laid it all on your feet
Didn’t even notice that his entrance in your life
Meant the exit of everything else you have known
The exit of every warning
The exit of every logical, rational thought
The exit of every memory of how you
Used to beg for them to stay
The exit of every “Don’t go” “Don’t leave” “I’m scared” you have learned to hold back and swallow
All that was left was him and you
And how when he kissed away the poison in your mouth
You had your eyes closed tight
You didn’t even notice when he spat it back in.

And now all that is left of him
Is an empty monosyllabic word: SEEN
In the chatbox where it all started
And now the only evidences left that there was him and you
Are the fresh wounds your nails
Had dug deep into your skin as you tried to rip every
Piece that reminded you of him
Too bad – every part of your body screams his name.

He’s nowhere to be found
The saviour you thought he was is gone
All that is left is you and you
As you picked up the broken pieces again – at least he has the grace to pile it in one place
And you start rebuilding again
This time, not a wall outside
But a temple inside of you
You no longer will drown
Because you will learn to ride the waves
And float on the tides
You no longer will long for his lips to take the poison away
Because that poison is you
A part of your being, and you will use it as your weapon
You no longer will need to have someone
To fill your empty spaces; you will do it yourself
And you no longer will want to have someone
Switch on the lights
You will blow out the candle yourself
Because you, you have the vastness of the galaxies and stars
Not in the sky
But in your eyes.

Once Wendy

you will dream of him, more often

than you try to think of him

in your waking hours

you have never really looked at

his eyes, but in your dreams

they will stare at you and

see your soul

“i want to make you happy”

like a song that plays

over and over again

this broken record you will always

hear “i want to make you happy”

you dont know which is more haunting – 

his laughter or the shadow of his promises

or the fact that he’s now ignoring you

you laugh at yourself and you try to think:

stupid, you’re just one of his girls

you were just… someone

some hours you will find yourself

thinking of him and getting mad

at yourself – of course  

he shouldn’t be blamed

he told you right?

“dont expect”

it was all but a harmless hot day

fling, nothing more but probably less

what you and him were all but nothing 

that existed through the phone —

at least it was fun while it lasted.

you will not tell anyone but

you recorded your phone calls

just a little reminder that for a series

of 12-minute calls, he was real

he was real.

you like him -gods, you do

but not because of what he is

and what his name means

you like him because of his

voice, which you always tease him about

you like him because of his 

reactions, those little “i hate you”s

he’d say with an imagined pout

you like him because he makes

you happy without even trying hard

you like him because of the way he’d

reassure you, “i’ll catch you when you fall”

dammit, you fell — and no one was there.

but no, no you are not blaming him

he is peter, and you were once his chosen wendy

he will always be up there flying,

while you are here, in the real world

silencing sadness with the knowledge that 

for a while, he flew you high

he is peter, and he will only fly

higher and higher, with someone who can be

more than the wendy you were

he is peter, and he brought you

to neverland, with promises of something

more than you have ever experienced

he is peter, and you always knew he 

was too good to be true

he is peter, and you, never having experienced being wendy

let yourself believe 

he is peter, and your time as wendy is up

you have to go back down

you wish he let go gently though.

he is peter, and you will always

just be the once chosen wendy

at least for a while, you were wendy

he is peter, and he will never fly you again.

She Thought

 

Once upon a time, there was a little girl who thought that the world is a beautiful place.

 

She thought that it was made up of pretty, little things. Wherever she’d look, she’d see pretty flowers, smell the red and pink roses, and feel the cold breeze caressing her face. She’d hear the humming of the birds and close her eyes and revel in their sweet, sweet symphony.

 

She’d walked barefooted upon the soft grass, her pristine white dress billowing about as the wind gently blew. Her golden hair tangled upon itself, and she has to sweep it away from her face with a tinkling laugh. She’s happy, she’s comfortable, and the world is a beautiful place.

 

She lived in her own bubble of comfort, enjoying her pretty life. Her eyes are closed, smiling sweetly, arms wrapped around her feathery pillow, sighing contentedly.

 

The world is a beautiful place.

 

Or so she thought.

 

When the girl awoke, her dress was white no more. It was stained with mud and blood. The crown of roses she’d set upon her head has become thorns, cutting her, piercing her pretty skin. She can no longer hear the symphony of the singing birds for the air is filled with the wails of the damned.

 

She hugged herself as she tried to fight the angry lashes of the winds. The grass, before so soft, are now sharp under her feet, and the girl who once thought that the world is a beautiful place, sank down on her knees, tears streaming in her face.

 

She thought wrong.

Ocean

​The moonlit tides

Rushing to the shore

The sea breeze

Calming the weary..

Isn’t it odd

For something so tumultuous 

To be an escape from reality? 

For something dangerous 

To be so calming..

The sea, the ocean,

The sky above the open waters,

The rough waves,

The strange depths..

No one knows and understands,

But everyone dares and dares and dares. 

Love is the ocean

We all dare to swim in. 

It doesn’t matter if we know how to or not –

The chance of tasting the unknown

Is worth the water in our lungs.

We rise above the tides

And fall beneath the waves.

Draw in air

Breathe, breathe

Get hooked on his oxygen.

Exhale

Breathe, breathe

Drown in the pain.

Close your eyes and jump headfirst 

Float amidst the debris of bones

Cut yourself on shattered hearts

Trail the blood mixed with salt.

The ocean – deadly, breathtaking, like

Love – worth dying. 

Rapture

 

cacophony of sirens

clashing of the sounds

the waves are rushing in

drowning the damned

 

smell of gasoline

the rain droplets of blood

bits of flesh and bones

where do you hide?

 

screams rent the air

hands over ears

you can’t block the cries

scarlet clouds

 

it has come

for the righteous

the sinners

the death of chance

Asylum

the heavy rain falls

filling the silence, filling voids

teardrops on the pavement

sweet escape calls


eyes turned upwards

seeking absolution from constellations

eyes cast downwards

hell is the ultimate destination


where are the walls i’ve built

where are the protection 

from the cold

from the world


that’s the fucking problem

everyone wants to see your walls fall

everyone wants to see your knees fold

but to the wreckage their backs are turned


everyone wants to see your walls fall

everyone wants to see your knees fold

but to the wreckage their backs are turned

and expect you to pick your broken pieces alone


everyone wants to see your knees fold

but to the wreckage their backs are turned

and expect you to pick your broken pieces alone

they want you to be grateful for the “liberation”


but to the wreckage their backs are turned

and expect you to pick your broken pieces alone

they want you to be grateful for the “liberation”

but ignores the blood from your hands, dripping on the floor


your soul bleeds

your mind breaks

your heart beats

the price of freedom – asylum 

A Letter to the Boy Who Never Wanted to Fall in Love with Me

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I am not the girl you expected to fall in love with.

I am not the girl your friends would want you to hang out with, not the girl you’d proudly show off to them.

No, I am not the girl you want.

I don’t have that perfect body you used to fantasize about. I don’t have the perfect hair you dreamed of running your fingers through. I don’t wear the clothes that you used to see as you glanced on those fashion magazines.

I cannot go along with the things you love. I can’t play sports with you. I don’t play those video games you love. I don’t listen to the songs that you like. I don’t go out to party. I barely get out of the house.

I am everything you hate.

I am clumsy and look unkempt most of time – I barely remember to comb my hair, makeup is a chore. I’d always rather choose to stay at home than party. My idea of having fun is reading books and staying in.

I am everything you do not want.

I am not the girl your mother used to warn you about, warned you to stay away from.

I am the girl your father told you about – the girl he let go, the one your mother never knew about. I am the girl, he said, that would change your life – for the better, for the worse.

And yet you fell for me, and for that I apologize.

I, too, do not understand.

I never wanted to make you miserable because you can’t change me into the girl you’ve always dreamed about.

Was it the conversations, the way I made you realize that you’re not shallow at all?

Was it the way I made you laugh?

Was it the way I made you feel that you’re more than what you think you are?

Whatever the reason is, I’m sorry. I’m sorry you fell in love with me and I’m sorry I’m not the woman you dreamed I would be.

I’m sorry.

I’m sorry that you’d never pick me up for a party; instead, you’d be struggling to pick me up after each wave of my depression hit.

I’m sorry that you’d never taste beer from my lips; instead, you’d taste my tears.

I’m sorry that you’d never see me in fishnets and lingerie; instead, you’d get to see the scars and bruises of my body.

I’m sorry for putting you through things you shouldn’t even be dealing with.

But let me make up for it.

Let me be the girl who’d support you all through out.

Let me be the girl who’d memorize every curve and plane of your face, of your body.

Let me be the girl who’d hold you as you chased the terrors of your nightmares away at night.

Let me be the girl who’d remember by heart your little quirks and habits.

Let me be the girl who won’t change you, but instead be there for you, be with you, as you discover who you are.

Let me be the girl who’d immortalize you through her poetry. Let me write stories about you.

Let me be the girl who’d fight for you, no matter what happens.

Let me be the girl who’d choose you over and over again.

Let me be the girl who’d stay with you through your ups and downs.

Let me be the girl who’d never walk away.

Let me be the girl who’d love you completely.

Let me be the girl you’d never regret unexpectedly falling in love with.

Danger in Your Eyes

The first time I saw you
I saw the dark glint of
Danger in those  brown eyes
I saw the depth of anger
Behind the cold facade
I saw the evil
Lurking
Beckoning
Calling
Seducing
You’re the guy
My momma warned me about
Made horror stories out of
Scars left
On your victim’s body
You’re the guy
My momma made me swore
To never fall for
Because there’s
Danger in those brown eyes
But
The smirk that comes
On those lips
That cater to cigarettes
Dazes my innocence
The poetry that comes
Out of that mouth
That exhales smoke
Captures my thoughts
Blinding me to the
Danger in those brown eyes
The rage and pain I took
As I press my lips on
Those tainted smile
Stood still as my body shook
As I felt the loving
You had to offer
Closed my eyes as the world spins
Yet in the shadows of my
Fading vision I see the
Danger in those brown eyes
Your love’s knives cut
Deeper than my blades
The wounds you left open
Bleed and stain the sheets
But my love
I still offer
Myself
Wholeheartedly
Doubtlessly
To you
Anything
Just to look at the
Danger in those brown eyes

Sa Mata ng Kontrabida

Hindi ko sinasadya
Di ko sinasadyang mahulog sayo
Di ko sinasadyang hanap-hanapin ka ng puso ko
Di ko sinasadyang mahulog sa lalaking may ibang laman ang puso.

Lagi akong nakakarinig ng mga kwento ng pagkasawi sa pag-ibig
At ang laging dahilan ng kanilang sakit
Ay yung ipagpapalit sila sa iba
Puro galit at pait ang nararamdaman ng taong naiwan
Puro kagaguhan naman daw ang alam ng taong nang-iwan
Pero ni minsan wala akong narinig na simpatya para sa kontrabida

Ang akala kasi ng lahat
Kapag ikaw ang bago, pakiramdam mo ikaw na ang panalo
Totoo, pakiramdam mo ikaw ang pinakamagandang babae sa buong mundo
Ikaw ang pinili eh
Pero madaling mawala ang ilusyon

Masakit maramdaman na lagi kang pangalawa
Na lagi kang huli
Na sa bawat masasayang minuto na kasama mo sya
Maiisip mo, “Ginawa rin kaya to nila?”
Na sa mga sandaling kayakap mo sya
Gusto mong magtanong kung ganun din ba sya kahigpit yakapin noon
O baka higit pa?
Na sa bawat dampi ng labi mo sa labi nya
Tatanungin mo ang sarili mo, “Kasintamis ba ng halik ko ang sa kanya?”
Na sa bawat gabing katabi mo syang mahimbing na natutulog, wala kang ibang maisip kundi “Ako kaya ang napapanaginipan nya, o sya?”
Na sa bawat pag gising mas nya, tinatakot ka ng posibilidad na nagsisisi na sya na ikaw ang pinili nya.

Kahit kailan di ka mapapanatag dahil alam mong
Tulad ng nakaraang relasyon nya
Wala kayong kasiguraduhan
Lagi kang magagambala ng takot
Na baka sa pag gising mo’y wala na sya
Tulad ng pagkawala nya sa nakalipas nya

Napakahirap magmahal pero mas
Mahirap magmahal kapag alam mong may kakumpetensya ka
Mahirap magmahal kapag alam mong may nasaktan ka
Mahirap magmahal kapag alam mong ang puso’t isip nya ay punong-puno ng bakas ng taong pinalitan mo
Mahirap magmahal kapag alam mong sa mata ng lahat
Ikaw ang kontrabida

Last Night

He was standing there, one hand in the pocket of his jeans, the other holding the roll of cannabis resting between his lips. The pungent smell of smoke emanated off him, billowing in wisps in the air. He was silent – his arrogant, lopsided smile on those lips, his eyes boring holes into hers.

She was sitting on the floor, exhausted, naked except for the blanket that’s providing her protection, her eyes bloodshot from her crying that started the night before. She was tired – she hasn’t eaten nor slept. And yet he has the audacity to touch her, to demand her body’s submission. How dare him.

He didn’t want to force her. He cherished her… but last night. Last night he wasn’t the man he is. He was fucked. He was stoned, and she started screaming about his “irresponsibility”. He snapped, angry that his buzz was destroyed. He didn’t want to hold tight her thin wrists in his fists, didn’t want to cover her mouth as she screamed for him to stop, to get off, to have pity, to please, please stop.

She didn’t want to beg. It was beneath her. But last night, she swallowed her pride, and pleaded for the man she thought she knew, to stop. Tears were streaming on her face, yet he ignored it. Something in her broke – she willed for her body to separate from her soul. She wants out. She wants to escape.

He knew it was wrong. But he can’t stop – she was like a drug, and he was hooked. He had let go of her hands, and she was thrashing, writhing, against him, her nails digging in his back, raking, drawing blood. He was travelling between pain and pleasure, he was hooked. And he wanted more.

The pillows swallowed her tears as she submitted to his domination. His hands were rough and hard on her. She’s already sure of the bruises that will appear on her hips, her thighs, her shoulders, and her back. His lips, though, were a contrast of his hands: sweet and feathery kisses travelled through her skin. Until they reached her nape, and bit hard. Another bruise. She felt him pull her hair, and she prayed he’d pull hard enough to extinguish all the oxygen in her brain, so that her heart would do the thinking.

Her whimpers sent him over the edge. As he lay on top of her, kissing her back, he felt her heart hammering. He felt her struggle to get him off, but he held his place. He kissed her shoulder, rested his head between her shoulder blades. He knew he was hurting her, his weight too much for her thin body. He knew he hurt her.

She felt empty, dirty and tainted. He had never done this before; she’s now questioning the love he said he has for her. She struggled to get him off; he did, after a while, feeling her discomfort. Her tears started to fall again as she turned her back to him. She felt his arm pull her close, and as he rested his head on her shoulder, he cried his apology.

She felt his tears on her shoulder, sliding down. She felt his body shudder as sobs wracked his body. Her heart clenched. She knew she shouldn’t forgive him. She knew this is wrong. But at this point, she doesn’t care anymore. The hazy smoke has clouded her judgment perhaps, but fuck it, she doesn’t care anymore. She turned to look into his eyes and kiss him on the lips. As she moved atop him, savouring her slow descent, his hands strong yet gentle on her waist, she kissed his tears away. This is her, this is him. This is them. Eyes locked, fingers intertwined, together they knew, this is right.