i feel the size of my heart
growing bigger and bigger
yet i feel still feel so small
in this sea of people
in this world
with trees as tall as buildings
and people as lovely as the rain

People tend to like the pretty people. Those with big eyes, cute nose, long hair and rosy cheeks. People with skinny stature, flat stomach or long legs. People who perfectly coincide with the society's standards of beauty. And she's not a pretty person. She can't make people turn their heads when she walks in the room and she can't make boys swoon with just one smile. She's the kind of person you would label as a friend but never as a lover if you're one of those who never truly sees people's worth and heck, she's a treasure, a precious gem. People are so ******* blind not to see how she's a blessing into this world. She's loving and kind and her heart is made of gold and yet she goes around offering it to strangers she meet at cheap coffee shops downtown. When she smiles, her eyes form crescent moon shapes that the night sky envies her. When she speaks, the mountains roar and the ground shakes in fear for her thoughts echo louder than any silence has. And she may not be pretty to other people, but God, she's ethereal to me.

ㅡ *him when he was asked to describe the person he loves

perhaps if i breathed deep enough
i could inhale the entire universe
and for a moment's worth
i'd feel the stars swirling in my chest,
the seas dancing in my lungs
and the winds running through my veins

and perhaps, if i exhaled just as much
i would breathe out the world
from my skin and bones,
and let it take the weight of sadness
that i carry in my chest.

i give
and give
and continue to give
even if i know it hurts,
even if it hurts
and keeps on hurting.

this is what's sad about
loving too much.
you give your all,
every single inch of skin,
every single tick of the clock,
every single breath i breathe.

and i know it hurts,
and it will keep on hurting.

but that is what love is.
finding the end to the hurt
until the only thing you feel
is peace.

i'll leave
                        pieces of
                                                           my
love                                                                               everywhere
                                                                ­                                                    like
                                                            peta­ls
            in                                                  ­                the                 wind
                            and                    i        ­                                                         hope
you              find                                        the­m                        and                
                  kn­ow                                   i                   wait                        
                                                    for you.

it is rare to come across
a mind quite as beautiful as his
it overflows with wonders
so he sets them free
through words and tunes,
this symphony-blooded boy
commands piano keys
and guitar strings with passion
so much that he could move
planets and mountains
the way people would for him.
his heart, although it runs on a lack of sleep,
stands strong through every night
spent thinking and writing and creating.

so if you do come across minds like these,
know that you are lucky
for you are glancing into universes
held within a single being,
of which are lived out through song and dance.

i only knew i loved the stars
on that night in Batangas—
my sisters and i rested our tired bones
on the dewy grass of a cliff,
we rested where the sea met the sky.

we looked at the stars.
"look, you can see the milky way right there,"
my oldest sisters said
as they traced the sky for me,
i saw it for the first time, in the dark
and i felt so big yet so small,
i learned to read the skies
from two people who knew how to
watch the world.

and i only knew i loved the stars
when i came to learn to see them
as i watched them
with the people i loved
beside me.

why should i have to carry the weight of the world
when i break under the weight
of my own being?

i only ever feel the weight of my heart
when i look at his face,
when i hear his laughter,
when i listen to his song—
i know i'm in love
with wonderment and fascination,
but with those feelings,
shouldn't the heart feel light?
indeed it might,
but here's the catch:
i carry the weight
of knowing
i'll never get this love back.