"please, let me go," he said,
as I stood outside his house,
waiting for him to let me in,
waiting for an explanation -
****, demanding one.

"please, let go of us," he cried,
as I stood outside his house,
waiting for him to let me in,
waiting for an explanation -
as if his plea wasn't clear enough.

being human is beautiful,
but there was nothing human about
what he had done.

"you'll be okay,"
and as he uttered those words,
my mind started to wander,
if the person I loved then ever really existed,
or was he just another mask worn -
another ink to my bleeding, blotting pen.

At isa ito sa mga bagay na kaya kong ipagmalaki -
hindi dahil sa mabubulaklak na salita,
o sa lalim ng atas ng bawat letrang binubuo.

Mahal ko ang pagsulat.
Dahil dito, may pag-intindi—
hindi mo kailangan pang dagdagan,
hindi mo kailangang itama,
dahil kapag tapos na, tapos na.

At kapag tapos na, sapat na.
Walang kuwit o gitling,
walang pagpapanggap; walang pag-aatubili
kamahal-mahal ba ang parte na ito na
nais kong bahagi sa mundo.
Kung sapat ba ang lalim, sapat ba ang bilang.

Mahal ko ang pagsulat.
Hindi ako pumapalaya sa pagbili ng mga notebook
na ninais kong punuin ng mga alaala at salita.

Pero sa loob ng pitong taon, nanatiliing blangko
ang mga papel na nakaimbak sa kwarto ko.

Sa mga gabi na katulad ngyon,
sinusubukan kong alalahanin,
kung paano minsan, sigurado ako—
may patutunguhan, alam kong saan pupunta;
sigurado kung saan hihinto at
kung kailan puputulin ang bawat litanya ng taludtod.

Mahal ko ang pagsulat, pero sa mga gabing katulad nito,
may kaakibat na alaala at sakit
ang bawat tungga ng Smirnoff.

Mahal ko ang pagsulat, pero sa mga gabing katulad nito, pinapaalala niya kung bakit
mas pinili kong makalimot.

It's so much more than just a mistake.
It wasn't a mistake when you opened the door and let her in.
It was not "bad judgment" that made you delete every conversation you have with her.
It was not a mistake when you chose to talk to her every single day and continuously lied straight to my face whenever I asked who you were talking to.
Your continuous betrayal was not a one-time mistake - that was a choice you made every day.
A continuous choice to abandon us.

So I stopped asking questions;
I stopped digging deeper.
Because you don't see the world as I do,
and it's more clear to me now,
that you don't see yourself at all.

Hindi kita matitigan,
kasi alam kong sa oras na nilingon kita,
iiyak ako, magmamakaawa, magtatanong nang paulit-ulit:
kung saan ako nagkulang; anong pwede kong gawin; pa'no 'ko makakatulong; hanggang kailan ako maghihintay;
pwede bang 'wag kang umalis?

Hindi kita tinitigan, pero hindi ko maiwasang itanong:
kung sa mga taon na lumipas, ito ba ang dahilan kung
bakit hindi mo na 'ko matitigan,
kung bakit laging kulang sa oras,
kung bakit laging huli ako sa listahan ng mga prayoridad mo sa buhay,
kung bakit hindi na kita napapatawa;
kung bakit kapag tinatanong kita kung masaya ka, sinasabi **** "hindi ko na yan iniisip"

Sobrang daming tanong na nabalewala nang tinanong kita:
"hiwalay na tayo?" at sinagot mo nang:
"sa ngayon."

dalawang salitang pinanghahawakan at pilit kong binibitawan.

cause i loved this place for so long, london.

am i sad because i've been listening to TTPD all week? or
i've been listening to TTPD all week because I am sad?
i don't know, man.

but what i do know is that nobody prepared me for 22.
nobody informed me that living on your terms can sometimes somewhat be lonely.
i love writing so much. but at this age,
i find myself lost for words most of the time,
as if they're there, but blurred, hidden, or far from my reach.
and so, rambling has been added to one of my skill sets.

there is something liberating and wretched at 22.
how we can understand now why adults act the way they do,
how there's so much to heal from and so much to discover -
a bittersweet year for the miscreant child.

i never believed in Christmas wishes as i know He listens everyday,
but I am gonna put this wish in writing:
may I once again find the right words and action to bring to life Your every desire. may I once again reach You. may I once again be worthy. may I once again be Love.

short-winded, foggy-brain girl in a green hoodie,
with visions far-flung from where she stands.
her hands tremble as she reaches for the microphone in front of a colossal audience.
she stands in silence - listening to their every whim - waiting for the right moment.
a great philosopher once said:
"a greater woman wouldn't beg.."
but she looked at the sky and said:
"whatever Your plan is, it shall be."
because there is no audience to perform for;
there's no ideal plan worth pursuing than His;.
because she knows,
as deep as the cuts and entrenched as the sins may be,
The Whole Universe conspires to make it all happen.

kaya mo bang lumangoy?
handa ka ba sa posibleng taas ng alon,
sa posibleng lalim na kailangang lusubin?
kaya mo bang mag-isa?
sa gitna ng malawak na asul na katubigan,
sa posibleng pag-iba ng simoy ng hangin -
kaya mo bang umunawa?
kaya mo bang sabayan ang alon?
kakayanin mo bang sumubok?
sa kalaliman ng tubig,
kapag naramdaman mo ang lamig,
sa iyong paningin,
mayroon bang pagsisisi?