They say that it is good to remember things; but somewhat better to forget if we want to forgive and move on with life.

I never wanted to remember everything from the start but being gifted with a sharp memory, I could recount almost every detail of the major events that has happened to me. Life has thrown both the good and bad memories to my face, and somehow, the horrible ones are more vivid and clearer than the pleasant ones. In all honesty, I did not really want to remember some good memories— especially those associated with the heart-wrenching ones which took away a piece of me. So what I might have is not “a walk to remember”, but rather, “a run to forget”. I want to run away; away from all the troubles and despairs of my haunting past, even if it means to escape from the happiness I used to experience along with it. But I know I would never really forget because I know my heart and mind do not want to discard those negative experiences totally in order for me to learn from them. And I accept that this is the way that God wants me to live; that I’ll always have those memories for the sake of building up a better me in the future.

I guess I thought that I could burn them all and throw the ashes of history. But I realize that these ashes will be forever buried within what makes me in the future— the past and the present.

i think it's hard to be friends or lovers with a writer. here's why:

1) you have to be careful of what you say, because the writers mostly take every word of yours literally and try to find the meaning in it. say what you mean, and mean what you say.

2) you also have to be wary of your grammar. those people, whom you know as writers, are grammar nazis. if they don't correct you in speech, fret not; it has been done in their word-mazed minds.

3) they will rant and rant and rant, because written words are what cool them off without having them to speak aloud. curse words, words which carry a tune, words which burn into brains... hear them out. do not be lazy to read their rants if they trust you with it. (they could rant about you TO YOU in the end.)

4) this is the hardest part. just remember that they will write about you no matter who you are or what you've done (or maybe you haven't even done anything). these people will write about how they see you. and most of the time, those writings are not so favorable. if you do not want to (literally) end up in their bad books, beware. their words may not last in ink forever but embedded into the hearts of those who read them.

happy reading and living with a reader!

roses are red,
ink is black.
give me credit
or give it back

She tries to turn
her thoughts into pictures
I just simply put
mine into words
Hers is all in color
Mine's a grayscale world
It's understandable why
you would choose a rainbow like her
Instead of the writer in me
But please let me go
I'm no longer her anymore
I'm no longer the artist
I yearned to be

today i got admitted into my university's writer's guild, after submitting five of my best works from here (hellopoetry). I am ecstatic to be a part of the university's official writing organization and i thank you all readers and friends for reading my works. I love writing, i really do, and even if I'm an fine arts student, words speak more to me than pictures and symbols do. I dedicate my acceptance into the Guild to everyone who has supported me by liking, sharing and reading my poems. Thank you.

Kindness is never worrisome. It will not bring you down. It will not let people abuse you. Do not listen to the world and their saying that "kindness will get you nowhere", or "you'll be taken granted for because of your kindness"; they don't know the real meaning of kindness. They are just lacking it for themselves, so be kind to them too. Be kind to those whom you wish to get back at. Anger won't solve it or make you the more mature one. Be brave enough to be kind. Be balanced enough to be fine. In your words and actions,

Be kind.

In the vision of your eyes
I want to know what you see
Because every time i stare into them
It's not the reflection of me

But the widest of universes
Where stars are born
And gas clouds swirl
Suns and moons shine

All i see are worlds
Where in every one
You are mine

I am an earthquake. I shake up other people's lives and shatter their worlds. I swallow everything of theirs in greed, stealing every moment of their day in my selfish demands.

But he still chases me, records me down, keeps account of me and tells me that my destruction is beautiful, it's what makes me. He says he wants to keep on watching me, hoping to save me one day.

Somehow I feel like protecting him from myself. Somehow I want to destroy him.

Or maybe I can destroy myself first. That would destroy him.

paint skies dark as ink
where the moonlight is at its peak
solace, what i seek

I can't even tell if I've really gotten over you or I'm just numb to the fact that I've not forgotten you

And as i readied myself to reply to your message, i felt the familiar warmth in my hands when i tapped away on my keyboard-- the warmth from years ago when i last saw you and held your hand

(My) Dear(est) Romeo,
I pray that hopefully, right now, you’re living peacefully and doing your best in everything. Truthfully, I wish that we could meet sooner, maybe around this week or on my birthday, or perhaps on a memorable date like Christmas or New Year’s Day. I can’t wait to see you and spend time with you, going on cheesy dates where we exchange lame puns, go on food and road trips, play sports and camp under the stars. I beg of you not to kiss any girl before we meet because I am saving myself for you, besides the fact that I am an envious and possessive person, so please be careful unless you want to end up in my collection of bitter poems. Right now and in the future, you must know that you and our future are the inspiration to why I do my best in everything I do, and I hope it goes the same for you. Please understand when it comes to the time that my career in the future will consume most of my attention, and I’ll understand your priorities as well, so don’t get mad when we ignore each other for a while—it will be good because the distance will remind us how much we miss each other. I hope you seek God the way I seek Him and believe that He would connect our threads one day, in His time. I know there are so many questions you ask and answers you want to know, but please remember to live one day at a time and at its fullest. Enjoy what’s around you at this moment—when the time comes that we meet, I promise to cherish every moment we’ll have together. But for now, let us live well and follow God’s will for us, so I’ll be seeing you soon.
Yours truly,
(Your) Juliet

that moment when the feeling you felt (for him) two years ago slightly hits you-- the feeling of your heart being squeezed slightly.

just slightly.

I loved you too much
That it stirred a storm within my heart
To the point of my sanity being messed
To the sloppy way i was dressed
It turned into a hurricane
When you left

"ugly as we are,"
                      you said to me
                      as you held my hand,
"the reflection of this horrible world
shown on the mirror
every time we look up."

                      you were slowly fading,
                      and i could see your eyes turning glassy.

                      a tear fell,
                      not only from your eye,
                      but also from the sky
                      to where i looked up
                      and saw the reflection of the world

"ugly as we are,"
                      i said with an empty hand,
"a horrible world
without you in it."

there wouldn't be success
without hardships

there wouldn't be happiness
without tears

there wouldn't be love
without hate

there wouldn't be glory
without gore

Narukami no sukoshi toyomite
     (A faint clap of thunder)
sashi kumori
     (Clouded skies)
Ame mo furanu ka?
     (Perhaps rain comes)
Kimi wo todomemu
     (If so, will you stay here with me?)

Narukami no sukoshi toyomite
     (A faint clap of thunder)
furazu to mo
     (Even if rain comes not)
warewa tomaramu
     (I will stay here)
imoshi todomeba*
     (Together with you)

When the tides crash and the waves retreat,
Doesn't the salty breeze make you feel poetic?
When the lightning clashes with its own kind and the thunder chases it,
Don't the sparks make you feel poetic?
When the wind blows and the leaves dance in the air,
Doesn't the autumn season make you feel poetic?
When the clouds disperse and the stars appear,
Doesn't the galaxies make you feel poetic?
When the rain falls and the mist forms on your skin,
Doesn't the nitrate smell make you feel poetic?
Because when i look at you,
and you look back at me
in the same way,
I know i feel poetic

You were my sky
I always looked up to you

You were my sky
You would turn gray when sad
And black when angry

You were my sky
I would catch your tears

You were my sky
You would shine darkest in the night

You were my sky
But you weren't my universe

For a long time, I have avoided my best friend because I have developed feelings for him. Until now, I had a chance to strike up a conversation with him.

So what are these tears for?

Am I crying because I could finally talk to him as usual?

Or

Am I crying because I am only talking to him as usual?

today my friend's best friend died
and i really empathized with her

Her best friend was
Charming
       brave
Affectionate
       smart
Lively
       gigantic
Versatile
       playful
Innocent
       silly
Noisy

And he was one of the best, someone whom she could lean on, someone who would cheer her up with a cuddle.

It hurts to lose a dog. A big, furry cream colored friend, with a big loving heart.

It's true that a dog loves you much more than himself. And you could see it in their eyes when you give them food or stroke their bellies.

This fuzzy feeling of friendship will never be forgotten.

You can run
But you can never hide
From all the tears
And fears you hold inside

Now who is lost
No longer can be found
You made your way down
Three-sixty degress around

Save yourself
It's unreachable
That string of hope
You won't be pulled

What to do
Why are you here
The reluctant hero
It's you, you fear

Ever wondered why we had to burn out or crash in flames?

Everything was on fire when i was by your side.

It all started with a spark, though.

Because i thought you were my match.

And i blame you for looking like hot stuff that Friday summer night.

There were two piano pieces of Rachmaninoff's: Love's Joy and Love's Sorrow. Now she, the musician who lets the instrument cry for her, always chooses to play the latter piece. And he, the musician who seeks to pursue happiness with his instrument, asks her, "Why do you stick to sorrow?"
.
.
.
"So I can get used to it."

Crushed pieces
Of two glass hearts
Didn't find their missing parts

But instead
Found each other
And fit perfectly in place

The first molded with the second
In the heat of the moment
Held from head to toe

A perfect masterpiece
From sand to art
A love so high from low

I hide away all my feelings
To see who would care
I won't show my discomfort
Or the joy that i should share
Because at the end of the day
No one will be there
I'm all alone again
Real friends, i know not where

AND SOMETIMES I WISH I COULD JUST GRAB YOU AND TELL YOU THAT I WOULD COME TO LOVE YOU AND YOUR PAST CRAP-HOLE LIFE AGAIN IF YOU GAVE ME A SECOND CHANCE AND I WOULDNT MIND OR CARE ABOUT THE FACT THAT WE DONT DESERVE EACH OTHER-- IM TOO GOOD FOR YOU AND YOU'RE TOO UNTAMED FOR ME, BUT ISN'T THAT THE REASON WHY I COULD SUPPORT YOU? TO BRING YOU BACK TO YOUR FEET. IF ONLY YOU WOULD LOOK ME IN THE EYES AT FIRST AND READ THROUGH MY SOUL HOW SERIOUS I AM ABOUT SAVING YOU

i feel wistful
As the grey smoke
that escapes your lips

Reminiscing the past
Where i scolded you
For being careless of your health
And you promised
You wouldn't puff another ever
Since you didn't want me to worry

But ever since you left
I guess i couldn't help you anymore
And you went back to your old ways

Like you were living to die
And i was dying to live

And now i cannot do anything
To save you anymore
But to watch you turn yourself
Into ashes
Just like how we burned out

They always ask
Why i like the dark of night
Or the gloomy rainy weather
Or scary thunderstorms
Or the big menacing moon

I always answer
That it is in the darkest moments
That light and hope
Is most well seen and found

She sits at night
At her favorite spot
Which was her
Wooden bay window

To watch out when
The lightning strikes
And thunderstorms
Her favorite action show

The clash rings loud
In her ears
Gives her shivers
Dissolving fright

The dancing streaks
Glowing skies
Electrifying veins
Of blue and white

The answer to blocking out pain from a broken heart is not numbness or indifference.

But that of letting yourself be loved again.

Reaching my third year in college and still remembering the past easily really means that time spares no one or no memory. We could all grow out of our old skins to realize that our new shells are just as hollow as ever, deeming hopeless in life and its travesty. Nevertheless,  that's what makes us so human, bleeding out our murderous thoughts and spilling it onto paper. The feeling of wanting to empty yourself to be a coreless vessel again, void of any emotions, unreadable to a living soul. Some of us get there faster with a pen, or even a blade, each of us digging deeper to our own little numb world, to ease the pain of conflict within or to put out the flames that are thirsty for oxygen, until the very wicker within us crumbles to dust. Back to where we started off. Fine as the dirt beneath our feet with no sign of life and no capsule of memory.

eyes that glow
a bit too brightly
electric as blue lightning
hair that's black
a middle fringe
his aura, truly fright'ning
but skilled hands
rough to the touch
handles me with gentle care
and once he comes
into your life
suddenly he's not there

and no matter how far apart we are
i'll always find you, my north star
because i know you'll come back to me
every time i call your name
and this makes me realize
what my heart has realized
long before i met you
that we are meant to be

I look out to the sea
Which reminds me of you
My thoughts reach out
But you get carried further away
To the depths of despair
To the farthest corner
You leave me behind
But my boat still stays

every goodbye
is the beginning
of a new hello

When your tears just flow without hesitance
Or when someone asks why you look so sad but nothing's on your mind
And it seems that your existence wants to stop existing itself
But you just don't know anymore
And you don't know how to answer anyone or yourself about how you really feel
All you know is sometimes you feel high
When you feel down

And yes, i have always wanted to chase you and pull you into my arms to caress your soft neck with my silver friend and she would cut me open in front of you to show you how my heart has been turned to stone and i would take it out and smash it to your head that you would finally know how it's like to lose your mind, just like how i lost my heart

MAY YOU BE BLINDED NOT BY LOVE BUT BY MY HATRED THAT YOU WILL NEVER GET TO SEE THE DAYLIGHT OR ANY GIRL'S SMILE

MAY YOU LOSE YOUR SENSE OF TOUCH THAT YOU WOULD NEVER GET TO ROAM YOUR HANDS OVER ANY OF THEIR SKIN

MAY YOU TURN DEAF AND NEVER HEAR THEIR SWEET VOICES LURING YOU INTO THEIR TRAPS

MAY YOU LOSE YOUR NOSE AND NEVER SMELL HER VANILLA SCENTED SKIN AND THAT THEY WILL ALL DESPISE YOU FOR LOOKING LIKE VOLDEMORT

MAY YOU NEVER LIVE A NORMAL LIFE AND CURSE YOU, AND YOUR LOVE LIFE

MAY YOUR WILL BE ILL WITH MY SCORN FOREVER AND EVER

Trace the scars at her back.
You'll find a constellation.
Trace her tears when it streaks down her cheeks.
You'll find a lonely river.
Trace her hair strands.
You'll find an aromatic flowerbed.
Trace her fingertips.
You'll find hurricanes and tornadoes.
Trace her soul.
You'll find yourself.

No.
To them, i should always be the quiet, sweet classmate.
I shouldn't be found out, my identity as a poet with loud and brutally honest words.
To them, i should always be the obedient, happy daughter.
I shouldn't be found out, my soul weeping at their fights.
To them, i should be a normal, boring college student.
I shouldn't be found out, my great aspirations and my dean's lister's grades.
To me, i should be whoever i want to be.
But i can't find myself and figure it out.