when i knew i was going to lose you, i thought

this is how you lose:

slowly but surely slipping, gently losing your footing

your grip slackening.

certainty is the final blow, a slow cut

across arteries, blades across flesh, bleeding.

“i will lose this”, the last words of all

possibilities as it eke out its last heartbeats

“i will lose this,” the last words of all

that could’ve been as its receding footsteps’

empty echoes bid its final goodbyes

“i will lose this,”: coffee, soda, bottles

all empty and upended and final.

this is how you close a chapter.

this how you end the story:

by losing what you’d rather not, but truth

is a liberating foe, an enemy sworn to your side

binding instead of freeing, yet somehow still

an open cage you’d rather not step out of.

this is how you lose:

in silence, in suppression, in truth.

RELAPSE DAY 1

 
 It begins
 In something as innocent as a song
 Or the way a scene reminds me
 Of another, a lifetime ago.
 It begins
 small
 It begins
 almost unnoticed
 But it begins.
  
 “Journeys end in
 lovers meeting,”
 the beginning
 of yet again another
 journey down the hole – 
 it begins
 though would it be a journey
 if it does not end,
 and no lover awaits me?
  
 It is here again
 The trek through the dark
 blind stumbling
 blades cutting, nails digging
  
 I see light in friends’ hands
 But it has begun
 And the solitude is 
 a                       
 must
  
 The hands of time move
 Painfully s  l  o  w
 Yet I am aware of the
 Speedofmylightburning
  
 A flashpoint, an ignition
 My dreams, my ambition
 My 
 downfall,
 My reclusion.
  
 It begins and it pains
 Me and
 Them and then 
 Some
 It begins
 And I am here again
  
 Journeys end in lovers meeting
 Meetings end in partings.
  
 Isn’t “begin” just another way of saying “being”?  

Footsteps

 If footsteps could speak through its echoes,
 Whose departure will it sing?
  
 The pathways are worn now,
 Well-versed in yet another
 Empty bed in the house
 The unfolding of another child
 Wide-eyed armed by this sleepy town
 Of her place in the big world
  
 Sometimes the town is a nursery
 A playground for the future
 Other times, it’s a cemetery --
 Here lie broken dreams,
 Withered passion, burned-out hopes
  
 The town remembers the girl
 They armed to become a woman
 But could not recognize the woman
 Who came to bury the girl
  
 Homecoming is not always a celebration
 A funeral can be rebirth
 And one day in this sleepy town
 Footsteps will fade to whispers
 Their echoes disappearing as
 Stories start all over again, repeating.
 

1

do you see it? each broken piece i’ve collected, offered at your feet.
is it enough? no. no, i know i will never be.
i am no daedalus – the gathered splinters will never be wings enough to make you fly.
take it though: take all that i am.
take these broken parts
these jagged pieces,
these unfit puzzle,
take it.
i give it willingly.

Bukang-liwayway Sa Mayo

Walang naniniwalang mahal kita.

Kung iisipin, maging ikaw ayaw maniwalang mahal kita. ‘Di rin naman kita masisi. Nagmahal ako nang sobra-sobra bago ka dumating. Nagmahal hanggang mawasak, nagmahal hangga’t maubos lahat ng pag-ibig na kayang ilabas ng puso ko. Nagmahal hanggang sa hindi na ako sigurado kung kaya ko pang magmahal muli.

Sa tutuwing may kilay na tumataas sa sagot kong, “Oo, mahal ko,” para bang kailangan kong magpaliwanag. Ni minsan, hindi ko ginawa. Ni kahit sa’yo, hindi ko sinabi. Maaaring dahil ako mismo, sa mga panahong iyon, ay ayaw mag-isip.

Magiging tapat ako – noong una’y ‘di rin ako makapaniwalang mahal kita. Hindi ba’t nangako sa sarili kong siya lang ang huling mamahalin ng buo, na hanggang sa huli’y walang ibang nanaising makasama? Bakit parang mas masaya ako pag kasama kita? Bakit panatag ang puso ko sa tuwing nginingitian mo? Bakit buo ang loob kong lumaban para sa’yo?

Hinintay kong mag-isa ang bukang liwayway noong gabing una tayong nagkita. Hinding-hindi ko iyon kailanman malilimutan, hindi lamang ang dampi ng labi, ngunit maging ang tila muling pagsindi mo ng ilaw sa madilim kong pananaw sa buhay.

Bago ka dumating, kuntento na ako sa katahimika’t kadiliman. Nabuhay akong walang ipinaglalaban, umaatras, tumatangging subukan ang paglipad sa takot kong mahulog. Noong unang gabing dumating ka, walang dalang telepono, bitbit ang libro, nabuhay ang mga lihim kong pangako sa sarili. Ipinaalala mo sa akin lahat ng pwede, lahat na maaaring maging.

Hindi ito magiging oda sa kung gaano kita kamahal; ito’y isang paglalahad kung bakit ikaw ang paborito kong bukang-liwayway.

Ang pagdating ng liwanag mo sa pinakamadilim kong gabi ang hudyat ng aking muling pagkabuhay. Ibinigay mo ang katatagan, ang katapangang nakalimutang kong minsan ay naging akin. Ipinaalala mo ang rason kung bakit kailangan kong lumaban, ‘di lamang para sa sarili ko, ngunit pati na rin para sa mundo.

Isipin man nilang lahat na hindi totoo ang pagmamahal ko, o kung totoo ma’y nagmahal ako at muli na namang natalo, wala na akong pakialam. Nang sabay nating hinintay ang ating unang bukang-liwayway, aking napagtanto: hindi kailangang mangatwiran ng liwanag sa dilim.

even the universe isn’t enough

I’d give you my universe, let you occupy all the spaces, let you steal the light of my stars, but you wouldn’t understand. No — the galaxies in my soul are nothing compared to the sliver of heaven you found in her.

write for me again

write for me again, baby, will you?

let me know if i should still love you.

write for me again, love.

all my flowers have wilted away,

and the garden of words that we grew

have long died.

write for me again, baby, and maybe this time i’d let myself dance in the rain.

one last time, love.

write for me again.

EV

i saw the storm rolling in,
so i tied my bed posts down.
i heard the thunder
so i shut the blinds to not see the
lightning strikes.
i saw the hurricane before
it even came to be.

that did not mean
i did not dance in the rain, though.
that did not mean
i did not intentionally left my rain boots
to wade deep in the flood.
that did not mean
i did not close my eyes
and let the raindrops wash away
all remnants of the past.

so when the storm is over
i could not say i regret
the aftermath.
i see the debris
and still
i am grateful.

storms pass
but rebirths come only once.

things you know when you’re damaged

I know anchors, heavy chains,
Dead weights.
I know burden.
I know shame.
I know weakness.
I know empty promises
“i’ll be better next time”
“it’ll be different this time around”
I know disappointment.
Mirrors don’t have to tell me much.
I look at hands, at shirts,
I look at thighs, at folds.
I look at space that aren’t supposed to be occupied.
I know excesses
The same way I know deficit.
I know more.
I know mess.
I know less.
Becoming less, and less.
Even less.
I know emptiness.
I know fullness.
I know how to not know
I know knowing.
Existence so keen I can’t keep up
Voids so deep I don’t even want to try.
I know weary.
I know tired.
I know.
I know.

witnesses

the street lamps knew

as do the silent gardens

the empty highway,

the lone, barking dog.

 

they saw

stolen kisses

rejected feelings

a distracted laugh.

 

the sidewalk heard

“can i kiss you?”

the flowers heard

“we shouldn’t do this”

the moon would tell this

to the clouds,

“she’s setting herself up to break”

and the stars would tell this

to the sun,

“and he’s letting her”

 

tonight, though,

another detour

another walk

slowing the shattering

 

“this night would end at some point”

“i wish it wont”

 

stop talking – you’re accelerating my fall.