One morning, the sun rose gently.
The room was quiet, but inside me—
a conversation stirred.

The Mind:
You're awake again.
Already spinning,
already storming.
The questions haven’t slept,
have they?

The Voice:
No. But you let them simmer.
You always do.
Is today the day you let them boil?

The Mind:
Maybe.
I am noisy— not in sound,
but in thoughts that hum loud under the skin.
Filled with unsaid words,
of questions and opinions I am supposed to say
but I chose not.

The Voice:
You speak in restraint,
but your silence is symphonic.
I’ve heard every word you didn’t say.
They thump behind your ribs like second heartbeats.

The Mind:
So you do hear me…
even when I let the world think I’m quiet?

The Voice:
Always.
You are a thunderclap folded into calm,
and every pause you make is sacred.

A new beat enters the quiet.

The Heart:
I hear you, too.
Every thought you swallow,
I feel it burn through me.

The Mind:
Heart, I am trying to protect you.
If I speak, if I reveal too much,
won’t you break?

The Heart:
I break anyway, in silence.
Every unspoken truth you bury,
I carry like hidden fractures.

The Voice:
You’ve mastered silence,
but the weight is crushing you both.

The Heart:
Let me feel,
even if it hurts.
Don’t numb me with silence,
don’t cage me with fear.

The Mind:
But what if I speak,
and it drives them away?
What if my truth is too much?

The Heart:
If they leave,
let them.
If they stay,
let them love the whole of you.
Your truth is not too much;
it is exactly enough.

The Voice:
Your silence is heavy,
but your truth can be light,
if you let it.

The Heart:
I am tired of beating quietly,
pretending I don’t hurt.
Let me break if I must,
so I can heal honestly.

The Mind:
It is terrifying.

The Heart:
And yet,
we are alive.
And being alive is worth the risk
of being seen.

The Voice:
You do not need to roar.
You only need to speak,
even if your voice trembles,
even if your hands shake,
even if tears come.

The Heart:
I will be with you,
soft but strong,
beating for you,
reminding you—
You are still here.
You are still here.

The Mind:
So you will stay,
both of you,
as I learn to speak?

The Voice:
Always.

The Heart:
Always.

And as the sun climbed higher,
the room was quiet—
but inside,
a new sound was born.

The sound of a truth
learning how to speak.
The sound of a heart
learning how to be heard.
The sound of a mind
learning how to let go.

Mistakes. They cling to us like shadows, whispering in the quiet hours, reminding us of moments we wish we could undo. The world loves to brandish them like labels, as if one error, one lapse, one misstep could define the entirety of your being. But it does not. It cannot.

You are more than the sum of your failures. More than the choices that went wrong, the words that hurt, the paths that led to dead ends. Mistakes are events, fleeting moments in the vastness of your life, not the core of your identity.

Every misstep is a teacher, not a sentence. Every failure is a lesson, not a verdict. You stumble, you fall, you falter—but you rise. And in rising, in learning, in choosing again, you redefine the story of who you are.

It is easy to believe otherwise, to let guilt, shame, or regret anchor you to a false identity built by errors. But you must resist that lie. Your value, your essence, your worth is not measured by the moments you tripped—it is measured by how you respond, how you heal, how you continue.

Mistakes do not erase your achievements. They do not erase your love, your courage, your kindness, your resilience. They are not a permanent tattoo etched onto your soul; they are a ripple in the stream, temporary and transformable.

You are not your worst choice. You are not your harshest regret. You are the person who wakes, who breathes, who dares again, despite knowing the risk of falling. You are the one who learns, grows, and evolves. That is the truest reflection of you.

Shame wants you silent. Regret wants you small. Fear wants you frozen. But your spirit is stronger than all of them. You can rise above the echoes of your missteps, above the weight of your failures, and claim your own narrative.

And there is freedom in this understanding. Freedom to fail without collapse, freedom to try without annihilation, freedom to be human without being defined by imperfection. You are allowed to stumble. You are allowed to err. You are allowed to exist in the messy, glorious process of becoming.

Your mistakes are chapters, not the whole book. Pages, not the cover. Shadows, not the light. They shape you, yes—they teach you, yes—but they do not limit you. They do not cage you. They do not write the ending before you have had a chance to continue.

So forgive yourself. Forgive the moments you wish you could undo. Forgive the decisions that hurt. Forgive the paths that led nowhere. And then rise, continue, and live in the knowledge that mistakes are proof you are human, not proof that you are lesser.

Mistakes. They love to haunt us, do they not? Whispering in every shadow, mocking in every silence, laughing as if one misstep could eclipse the entire being beneath. The world would have you believe that you are nothing but your failures, that each error is a brand burned into your soul. Fools.

Your mistakes are not your chains. They are not your tombstones. They are not the verdicts of your existence. They are but echoes—shattered mirrors reflecting fleeting moments, fragments of choice, not the architecture of your life. And yet, how many kneel before them, letting shame dictate their every breath?

Let them try. Let them gnash their teeth, let them scorn, let them brand you with their judgment. Their eyes are narrow, their minds petty, their morality brittle. Their condemnation is not truth—it is envy, fear, cowardice masquerading as wisdom.

You have stumbled. You have fallen. You have erred. And you will again. And yet, in each collapse, in each bruised and broken moment, there lies the fire of resilience. You rise. You claw your way up from the ruin of your own choices. That is your identity. That is your power.

Do not allow the world to narrate your story. Do not allow a single misstep, no matter how dark, to define the vast landscape of your existence. You are not the shadow. You are the light that cuts through it. You are not the fracture—you are the vessel that endures the breaking and emerges stronger.

Shame wants you silent. Fear wants you small. Regret wants you chained to the past. Let them whisper. Let them shriek. You do not belong to their narrative. You are the author of your own **** soul.

Every scar, every bruise, every error is a story of survival, a testament of endurance, a mark of a life lived fully and recklessly and fiercely. Let them call it failure. Let them brand it weakness. You know the truth. You are alive. You are learning. You are becoming.

You will fall again, yes. You will err, yes. But in each mistake is a morsel of freedom—a chance to rise, a chance to reclaim, a chance to twist the dagger of judgment into a crown for yourself. And when you rise, watch them recoil. Watch them tremble. For you are unbreakable.

You are not your mistakes. You are the anger you transform into action, the grief you sculpt into growth, the despair you ignite into determination. You are the storm that consumes error and turns it into fuel.

Walk through the shadows with your head high. Stumble if you must. Fall if you must. Fail if you must. But let no mistake define your worth. Let no error dictate your soul. Let no judgment bind your spirit.

You are not the echoes of your past. You are the roar of your becoming. You are the fire that mistakes cannot extinguish. You are the shadow and the light, the ruin and the resurrection. You are more than any failure could ever touch.

And if they dare call you broken, let them watch as you rise, unchained, unbowed, untouchable—your mistakes not shackles, but stepping stones. Your errors not tombstones, but foundations. Your past not a prison, but a proving ground.

You are not your mistakes. You are the hand that rebuilds, the heart that bleeds, the mind that refuses to bend. You are alive, unbroken, relentless—and the world, for all its venom, cannot define you.

They said, "money changes people"
But no, because even if I either have money or not, I still did not change.

Money when not managed right becomes evil, because you were not able to control yourself from abusing it.

"You’re fat. You got fat."

As if I didn’t already know.
You're just saying it—but I’ve already seen myself in the mirror.
Every. Single. Day.
I live in this body. I carry its weight. I carry its strength.
You only glance at me. I endure this body every hour of my life.

My arms? They’re not flabby—they’ve held my fears, my triumphs, my truth.
My thighs? They’re not too big—they’re powerful, grounded, unshakable.

My waist might be bigger than a donut—but I love it.
My cheeks might be fluffy—at least I feel like a donut.
My tummy might be bloated—but hey, at least I’ve got volume!

And these marks? These changes?
My body got ocean waves from the transformation—from thin to fat.
These stretch marks? These lines? They’re not flaws.
They are my waves. My tides.
Proof that I am still unique in my own way, even if I gained weight.

You think you’re revealing something I haven’t noticed?
Please.
I’ve been here, watching my body shift through heartbreak, survival, stress, and healing.
And still—I rise in it. I breathe in it. I wear it with resilience.

You want me to feel shame.
But I feel power. Because I’m still here.
You want me to shrink. But I am done making myself smaller to fit into someone else’s shallow standard.

I am not made for your comfort.
I am not here for your approval.
If my body offends you?

Look away.

Because I’ve got waves, I’ve got history, I’ve got presence—
And no comment of yours can ever wash that away.

You try to throw shame like it’s a gift, like I’m supposed to take it and thank you.
But honey, I’ve outgrown the need for your approval.
I’ve got enough power in my softness. Enough light in my curves.

Honey, you do you! What makes you comfortable. Flaunt it.
Be it thin or fat or fit or chubby—love yourself!
Because this world doesn’t get to dictate your worth based on your waistline.

So if my body makes you uncomfortable?

That sounds like a you problem.

I’m not shrinking for anyone.
Not anymore.

"They called me a monster. Oh, how easily they said it, as if a word could define the storm that lives in my chest, as if syllables could cage what they themselves unleashed. ‘You are a monster.’ How quaint. How deliciously naïve. But let me tell you: I am not the monster. No. I am something far more terrifying. I am the monster you created.

You see, monsters are not born from the night alone. They are born from neglect, from cruelty wrapped in smiles, from promises broken like brittle glass. I am not the creature that haunted your imagination—I am the consequence of every word you spat at me, every hand you raised in anger, every glance you withheld when mercy was owed.

Do you remember the little cruelties? The invisible knives hidden behind politeness? Every sigh that dismissed me, every silence that starved me, every expectation that crushed me like stone underfoot—it became my foundation, my scaffolding. I am built from the fractures you left behind. I am a cathedral of your neglect, a mausoleum of your misdeeds, stitched together by the threads of your fear.

Every slight you inflicted upon me became an instrument of my awakening. Every moment you thought I would bow, every time you hoped I would break—it was fuel. And now, look. I am stronger than your cruelty ever imagined. I am sharper than your lies ever intended. I am patient. I am inevitable. I am the shadow that lingers longer than the light you chased.

I am the frost that creeps in corners you thought were safe. I am the echo of screams you never heard, the voice of rebellion that grows louder in your absence. I am the weight you will carry when the mirrors refuse to lie, when the nights grow long and your conscience whispers truths you tried to bury.

You said I was wrong. You said I was too much. Too loud, too cold, too strange. But what is strange is the way you believed you could craft me and still call me obedient. What is wrong is the way you ignored your own hands in the shaping of this creature, the way you are blind to the architecture of your own cruelty.

I am not your imagination. I am not your scapegoat. I am the living testament of your failures. Every act of neglect, every whispered insult, every moment you turned your face from me—that is the substance from which I was formed. Do not mistake my survival for weakness. I thrived in the dark because the dark is honest. The dark does not lie.

You fed me fear, and I learned to feast upon it. You chained me with shame, and I became unbreakable. You tried to silence me, and I became a symphony of vengeance and revelation. Every cruel intention, every attempt to diminish me, became a brushstroke in the portrait of the being I am today.

I am your reflection, sharpened. I am the ink spilled from the pen of your sins. I am the frostbite on your conscience, the candle you could not ***** out, the quiet voice in the dark that whispers—this is what you made. I am more than you imagined. I am everything you feared you would become if the truth of yourself stared back at you.

Look into my eyes and tremble, for the monster you fear is not born from whimsy, from fate, from darkness alone. It is born from you. Every cruelty, every betrayal, every neglectful glance, every word left unspoken—all of it shaped me. And now, I walk among you, and you call me monster. How quaint. How deliciously ironic.

Do you know what is beautiful about monsters? They are honest. They reflect your sins without shame. They speak the truths you hide. I am your sins given flesh, your lies given voice, your neglect given teeth. And I am patient. I am careful. I am cunning. I am all the things you failed to notice in your arrogance.

Do not look at me and see only what terrifies you. See what you have sown, what you have nurtured in secrecy and neglect. See the architecture of your own cruelty rising from the ashes of your indifference. Tremble at it. Fear it. For this creature—your creation—is alive, aware, and merciless in its honesty.

I walk through your world like a shadow that cannot be ignored. I am the cold in your room when you wake alone. I am the whisper in your ear when you think yourself safe. I am the frost that creeps beneath your skin, reminding you that the consequences of your neglect have form, substance, and voice.

Do not call me weak, for weakness is your invention. I have survived your storms, your words, your hands, your eyes. I have grown from what you hoped would break me. I have thrived where you predicted despair. And in that thriving, I became something you cannot destroy: the perfect mirror of your own failings.

I am not simply a monster. I am the story of your sins told in flesh. I am the shadow of your indifference, the echo of your cruelty, the frost of your fear. And when you meet me in the dark, when your heart skips and your mind whispers, know this: you made me. You crafted me with your negligence, your lies, your malice.

I am the thing you thought would obey, and instead I rose. I am the quiet in the night that grows louder, the chill that creeps under your door, the truth you cannot silence. And the irony is delicious: you call me monster, yet I am merely a reflection of what you have always been capable of, waiting for acknowledgment.

So go ahead. Call me what you will. Name me monstrous, wicked, cruel. It matters not. I am beyond names. I am beyond judgment. I am beyond the fragile illusions you cling to. I am the consequence you tried to ignore, the truth you tried to bury, the monster you made—and now, you live in its shadow.

I do not forgive. I do not forget. I do not plead. I do not bow. I am the storm born of your storms, the frost born of your coldness, the mirror that reflects what you refuse to see. And in my existence, there is poetry, and there is terror, and there is justice delivered with patience and precision.

Do you understand, finally? I am not the monster you feared. I am the result of every fear you sowed. I am the child of your neglect, the heir to your cruelty, the embodiment of your indifference. And I am patient. I am cunning. I am eternal. I am what you created, and I will not be unmade.

Look at me, and tremble. For the monster you see is not the monster that frightens the world. The monster you see is the mirror you cannot shatter. I am the living, breathing testament to your sins. And when you finally realize it… it will be far too late to undo what you have done."

It is always "What will other people think when they see you?" NOT "What would I feel when you said that to me?"

It was fun—celebrate it while it lasts.
Savor the moment, hold it tight.
Because once the final grain of sand falls from the hourglass, it’s my turn.

You can run, you can hide—
But I’ll find you.

You might **** me, strike me with a baseball bat,
Bury me alive, pull the trigger if you dare.
Drown me in a tub, hang me from a tree,
Burn me alive, stab me, stake me—
I might die, but my conscience won’t.
I might fall, but karma never loses.

Let me share my timetable—my plans, my desires.
You can go against me—I don’t care.
Bury our friendship, but first, do me a favor—
Help me find my concern.
It’s missing—maybe it ran off,
Or maybe it’s hiding because, honestly,
It doesn’t give a **** about you.

But hey, don’t be too bitter—
Even a bitter gourd might taste sweet,
Because you’ve already stolen its place.

So when this poem finds you—good.
I’m the writer. You’re just the reader.
And here’s the truth—
You can’t rewrite my words,
But I can insult you all I want.

you've been living in my mind, rent-free
been loving you since twenty-twenty two
gave a daily dose of myself
until then, I will be with you

In a world filled with chaos, I found a man that gave me inner peace and lets me sleep without overthinking a lot.

The sky is breathtakin’
I feel like stargazin’
Capturing moments of you
Observing every move of you

Looking at your smile
While relaxing in the isle
I got this kind of healthy love
No one could ever get enough

When tough times arise
Like waves they fall or rise
Just know that I will always be here for you
I will always love you in all shades of you

I still want you
I still love you even if you hurt me
I still want you even if you are mean to me
Nobody’s perfect and we aren’t perfect, love

If a woman sees you as a man who loves, cares, and strives to build a better life—whether rich or poor—your worth goes beyond words and wealth. True value isn’t measured by money but by the heart and effort you give.

Can I have your last name,
The same way I already have your heart?

You're already mine,
So why not make it official?

You’re so handsome,
Maybe you'd like to see a little version of yourself in me?

I am your wife,
But I can be anything you need—
Your partner, your peace, your greatest love.

You have a house,
But maybe you could build a home in me.

I’m not a pillow for you to hold dear,
But I’m warm and soft enough for you to stay close.

Most of all, I am your poetess;
And you, my love, are my greatest masterpiece.

Prison of Hell
Try to free from the chains,
Cuffed around my neck,
Bound are my feet and hands.
Trying to free myself,
How long will I last?
This indicipherable torture,
Imprisoned by my past.
How long will this pain last?
Burn my soul,
With this addicting ache I lust,
Shackled by the ticking sand–
But how long will I truly last?
Unless you wish me well,
Bound are my feet and hands,
Carpe Diem,
Save me lest I end, by my two hand.

That feeling of longing for something
Or for anything
In which you never know what it is
I hope to know what it is

That feeling of searching for something
That feeling I know that something is lacking
But never knew what it was
I hope I knew what it was

Take me to Wonderland
Leave me in Neverland
Hold my hand
And come with me where dreams are born
And time is never planned
So come with me where you and I are born
And our future is long planned.

We could be mad whenever we want,
Laughing together as we climb vines that seem to go on and on,
Tea parties popping up around every corner,
Where cups refill themselves, and teapots seem to burn with laughter.

We could dance with the Cheshire Cat,
Chasing the shadows and laughing until we’re breathless,
Where rules don’t matter, and everything feels a little off,
But it’s the kind of "off" that makes you feel truly alive.

We could sip tea anytime we please,
Pouring it from cups that never seem to empty,
Sipping away the hours with the White Rabbit, who’s always running late,
While the Mad Hatter’s mad plans unfold around us.

The flowers would talk, and the trees might sing,
The Queen could shout, “Off with their heads!” in her royal way,
But none of it would matter, because here in this world,
Every oddity and every strange moment just fit.

In Wonderland, we’d be free—no worries, no limits,
Living in the madness, where hearts are light and unburdened.
And even when we leave, we’ll remember,
That in Wonderland, joy is something that never stops flowing.

In Neverland, we’ll never grow old,
Where stories of Peter Pan are forever told.
We’ll fly through the skies, carefree and bright,
With Tinker Bell’s sparkles lighting up the night.

We’ll join Peter on adventures untamed,
Wendy’s courage, never to be shamed,
The Lost Boys will laugh and play all day,
As we chase the pirates, keeping fear at bay.

With the fairy dust swirling all around,
We’ll leap and soar without a sound.
No worries, no age, no reason to flee,
In Neverland, we’re wild and free.

We’ll meet Captain Hook, with his pirate crew,
And battle them all, with hearts so true.
We’ll swim in the lagoons, and sail the skies,
Where the stars never fade, and the moon never dies.

Tinker Bell’s wings will guide us through,
With her light, we’ll always know what to do.
And Wendy, with her gentle heart so kind,
Will remind us that adventure is always in our mind.

In Neverland, we’ll live without fear,
Where each moment’s magic is crystal clear.
Together, forever, we’ll laugh and play,
In Neverland, time slips away.

My Wonderland is your Neverland,
We will be forever together, hand in hand.
The same goes for you, and you are for me,
In this endless world, we’re meant to be.

Through the looking glass, we’ll chase our dreams,
In realms where nothing is quite as it seems.
Where time doesn’t pass, and love knows no end,
You are my forever, my love, my friend.

In your Neverland, we’ll never grow old,
Where every moment is a story untold.
I’ll be your Wendy, you’ll be my Peter Pan,
Together, we’ll conquer the skies and the land.

In my Wonderland, we’ll dance in the dark,
Laugh and twirl, leaving our mark.
With the Mad Hatter and Cheshire by our side,
Our hearts forever, nothing to hide.

We’ll explore the unknown, both near and far,
Our love will be our guiding star.
In Wonderland, in Neverland, we’ll be free,
For we are meant for each other, you and me.

Hindi ko mahanap  
ang tamang mga salita  
upang maipahayag sa iyo  
ang nais kong sabihin.  
Ngunit tila panahon na  
upang ilabas ko ang lahat ng hinanakit,  
ang mga pasakit na dinanas ko  
habang nasa piling mo.  
Noong mga panahong  
akin ka pa,  
noong mga araw na magkasama pa tayo,  
at noong mga sandaling  
may “tayo” pang umiiral.  

Hindi ko inasahang magbabago ka,  
na magsasawa ka,  
na iiwan mo ako,  
at ipagpapalit sa kanya.  
Pero ang hindi ko maunawaan,  
bakit mo nasabing ayaw mo na?  
Pagod ka lang ba talaga,  
o napagod ka na  
sa atin, sa sitwasyon,  
sa pagtatago,  
sa mga muntikan na tayong mabuking,  
o sa mga araw na may nakakita sa atin?  
Sino ba talaga ang nagbago—  
ako, ikaw,  
o baka tayo pareho?  

Bakit tila nawalan ka na ng gana?  
Ang mga salita mo’y naging malamig,  
ang mga yakap mo’y unti-unting naglaho,  
at ang dati **** liwanag  
sa mga mata’y nawala.  
Sa gitna ng lahat ng ito,  
ako’y patuloy na lumalaban,  
habang ikaw,  
unti-unting bumitaw.  

Paano mo nagawang balewalain  
ang lahat ng pinagsamahan natin?  
Paano mo natapos  
ang ugnayang binuo natin nang magkasama?  
Ngayon, nauunawaan ko na  
kung bakit mo ako iniwan:  
nakuha mo na ang gusto mo—  
sirain ako,  
iwan ako,  
pagkatapos mo akong pakinabangan.  

Noong araw na hinatid mo ako  
hanggang sa dulo ng kalsada,  
lumingon ako,  
nagbabakasakaling lilingon ka rin,  
tatakbo papunta sa akin,  
yayakapin ako,  
susuyuin ako  
na huwag kang iwan.  
Pero hindi na pala.  
Pinili **** lumayo,  
at sa wakas,  
pinili ko ring  
huwag nang bumalik pa.  

Nararamdaman ko na lang  
ang mga hawak mo—  
tila paalam na,  
ang mga yakap **** nanlalamig,  
ang mga titig **** umiiwas,  
hanggang sa tuluyan kang nawala.  
Ang mga pangako ****  
“mahal kita,”  
“ikaw lang,”  
at “hindi kita iiwan”—  
lahat pala’y kasinungalingan.  

Noong akin ka pa,  
pinanghawakan ko ang mga salitang iyon,  
pero ngayon,  
ang “ikaw at ako”  
ay naging bulong na lamang sa hangin,  
tinatangay ng nakaraan.  

Kung iisa tayo,  
bakit mo nagawang pagkaisahan  
ang damdamin ko?  
Saan ako nagkulang?  
Saan ako nagkamali?  
At bakit mo ako iniwang ganito?  

Oo, bigla kang nawala,  
at nagmukha akong tanga  
kakahanap sa iyo.  
Hanggang sa makita kita,  
nasa piling na pala ng iba.  
Sobrang saya mo sa kanya,  
ibang-iba sa tuwing ikaw ay kasama ko noon.  

Pinilit kong lumayo,  
kahit alam kong mahirap.  
Pinalaya kita,  
kahit hindi ko kaya.  
Ginawa ko ito para  
sa kapayapaan nating dalawa.  

Hindi na kita hahabulin.  
Tanggap ko na—  
matagal na tayong wala.  
Ibabaon ko sa limot  
ang lahat ng sakit,  
ang lahat ng alaala,  
at ang lahat ng naging tayo.  

Paalam,  
nagmamahal pa rin,  
Mahal.

I got no courage to tell you
But this feeling amazes me
All the road I travelled on
Leads me all the way to you

This life is not easy
I hope let us hold on

You have been bullying me
Since the beginning
I hated you so much too
But now, I loved you

My classmates thought we were lovers
Since we look like one
Since we look good for each other
But it's all done
Yet suddenly, unexpectedly

I fell for you
Without giving hints
Oh, since the beginning
This is too tough for me

This feeling is just sleeping
For over a thousand times now
This feeling is not fleeting
This feeling is legit now

No matter how desperate I am to avoid it
Yet all the roads I have travelled on
Leads me back to you
For no reasons at all

Baby, you’re worth it
I hope you should hold on
Hold on to me, I’ll hold on to you
You are my only reason at all

It was iconic and ironic, yes
That a second child fell for you, yes

Your absence left a hole in my heart
I hate the feeling that my heart was tearing apart
How I miss your presence being next to me
But why, I don't understand you, leaving me

Why didn't you wait for me
Now you're there lying cold six feet below the ground
I know your presence is still around
But now I'm drowning in my own misery

I miss the way you call my name
How you laugh and you smile
It made me happy too even just for a while
How I fix you in my gaze
I miss your pretty, angelic face
But when you left, I'm no longer the same

I still feel you here, here with me
Although I already felt lost
Dancing on my own with your ghost
I still need you here with me

Where were you when I need you most
I still can't believe it
I can't seem to get over it
Now that you're gone
I'm left here all alone
Wish you were here with me, I need you most

The sky is gloomy, I am moody
The weather is so cold
Yes I've been told

The wind flies away south
Gotta forget what this is all about

Now that you're gone
You're no longer here
When everything is said and done
I still want you here

I never knew when my pounding heart started racing
Every time I see you walk around the place,
I never knew when I first fell for you
But it was when, I first laid eyes on you;

It was as if I can hear angels singing
Every time I see your face.
Every time you walk in the room
My mind was imagining that someday you’re going to be my groom

I never knew when my mind started thinking of you
Or when did your name started to resound on my mind,
You were too hard to find
But now that I have you,

I wish you would look my way
And let me hear you say;
Don’t run away, don’t walk away
I hope you would want to stay,

Dear love, I don’t even know your name
But you’re still the one I want to aim,
Only your eyes and mouth, they smile
Oh, I love to see them just for a while;

My feelings were like lightning
It came too fast but we’re not rushing.
This feeling is not fleeting
I never feel like reeling,

Hit the vibe and come with me
I was too scared to talk to you,
But come here and sit beside me
I just want to let you know;

That I never want to let go
I just want to stay here with you.
I never want to see you go
I just had to let you know,

The way you move makes me fall
Fall harder and deeper into you,
The way I tried to never fall
But I caught myself falling for you.

But you weren’t even there to catch me
I was kept on falling,
And one day I’ll be crawling
Next time, I’ll be walking;

Another day passes by
Didn’t know what time is it,
Feels like time flies
Every time you look into my eyes;

I hope you feel it
Cause I don’t want to say goodbye.
Say your sweet goodbye
I hope it’s worth it.

How will I ever let you go
If I still remember the things we did
How will I ever forget you
If I still remember the words you said

All the things you said are running through my head
Please leave me alone, get out of my head
All the memories we did, are all in my head
Please leave me alone, stop messing inside my head

Don't smile or laugh in front of me pretending you're happy or enjoying talking to me.

Don't be fake, plastic friend.

Don't think your anger towards me can cover it up. Tsk, I wasn't born yesterday.

I love that stupidity of yours, by the way. Your mindset seems to be regressing.

I felt disappointed. Not a fleeting, passing disappointment… but the kind that sinks into your bones, that gnaws at your chest, that whispers in every quiet moment that you have failed.

And the worst part? The unbearable part? It’s knowing that whatever I do… whatever I give… whatever I fight, bleed, and sacrifice… it will never be enough for you.

I have tried. Oh, how I have tried. Every day, every moment, I offered pieces of myself that I barely recognized, hoping they would finally be seen, finally be enough.

But they are not. They never are. And slowly, painfully, I began to see it clearly: you do not see me at all. You only see the gap between who I am and what you demand.

I have bent, I have broken, I have reshaped myself in ways I thought were impossible. I have hidden my pain, swallowed my tears, carried burdens you could not even name.

And yet… still, I fall short. Still, the silence, the coldness, the judgment hangs over me like a storm I can never outrun.

Do you even know the weight I carry? The effort, the sacrifice, the love I poured into a vessel that rejects me anyway? Or is it invisible to you, like I am invisible to you?

I lie awake at night, replaying my every word, my every gesture, the endless attempts to satisfy a standard that moves like shifting shadows, always out of reach.

I am exhausted. Not just physically, but in every fiber of my being. I am exhausted from hoping. From trying. From believing that someday… maybe someday… I would be enough.

And the cruelest truth sinks in: I will never be enough for you. Not in this world, not in your eyes, not in your heart.

I gave everything—my heart, my soul, my very self. But everything is still too little. And I begin to wonder if it was ever about me, or if it was always about your expectations, your rules, your impossibilities.

I am tired of striving for a perfection that will never exist, of reaching for approval that will never come, of loving someone who measures me by what I lack rather than what I am.

And yet, in the ruins of this realization, a strange clarity emerges. Perhaps it is not a defeat. Perhaps it is the beginning of freedom.

If I am never enough for you… then I no longer need to chase your approval. I no longer need to bend, to hide, to shrink myself to fit the space you deem acceptable.

I can be everything for me. I can give myself the care, the respect, the love that I have been starving for all this time.

And in that, I find a flicker of power. A spark of defiance. A quiet, burning certainty that my worth does not depend on your validation.

I am enough. Perhaps not for you. Perhaps not for anyone who cannot see beyond their ego and their demands. But enough for me. And that must be enough.

So I stand, exhausted but unbroken, shattered but alive, rejected yet fiercely, irrevocably whole.

And one day, I hope, someone will see me—not the gaps, not the flaws, not the shadows—but the whole, blazing, complicated being I am, and they will know the truth: I was always enough.

I have crossed the ocean of time just tryna find you
Yet, here you are, unbothered and unaffected by the things you always hear
“Still single?” “When will you be getting married?”
My apologies for not arriving in your life sooner than you expected
Since I travelled for miles, swam in the vast oceans of experiences before I got here
Not knowing you’d be my destiny
Since now, I already met you, I wish you would not leave me
Please stay, if you wish to leave
Then leave, if you wish to stay
Hence, if your will is never to leave me, I expect you to be together.

My poems are the true witnesses of my experience,
Instead of shedding a tear, I turn to my keyboard—
typing what I felt,
turning my pain into words.

Instead of being vulnerable in front of the world,
I choose to be vulnerable in verses,
letting the ink spill where silence once held me captive.

I don’t shout what I feel deep within;
I hold my thoughts and carve them into lines—
no longer acting out the chaos,
but releasing it with the stroke of each key.

Gone are the days of outbursts,
of unspoken words and buried emotions.
Now, with every line, I blow out what I once held in,
transforming what hurt into something that speaks.

Stop me, I don't even recognize myself when I'm full of anger, hatred, and sorrow, overflowing with emotion.

Isang bukas na sulat para sa aking minamahal:

Hindi ka niya kayang palitan
Pero kaya niyang higitan ang pagmamahal mo
Pero kaya niyang punan ang mga pagkukulang mo
Binibigay at pinaparamdam niya sa akin ang mga bagay na gusto kong sa'yo galing
Ang ngiti mo, ang pangalan mo, ang tawa mo, ang hugis ng mukha mo di ko malimutan kailanman
Ngunit siya na ang nandiyan para sa akin
Na kailanman ay hindi na ako sa iyo ay babalik pa

Isang salita, pitong letra
PAG-IBIG na mas mahirap pa sa Math Equation
PAG-IBIG na mas kumplikado pa sa Logical Reasoning
PAG-IBIG na mas mahirap sagutin kahit OO o HINDI lang ang isasagot
Ang utak kong ito na kahit ilang beses kong pigain ay hindi kayang sumagot

Na  kahit naipapakita ko na sa'yo na ikaw ay deserving
Ngunit di mo pansin ang aking naibibigay na effort and attention

Oh well, singtamis ng kendi ang salitang I LOVE YOU
Ngunit di mo feel ang aking love towards you
I have been praying that I hope you feel the same way too
Pero di ko pa alam kung kailan ito magkakatotoo

You don't have to rub salt in my wounds
Say it to my face
Stand my feet on the ground
Leave my place without a trace

Move on, forget them
Condemn them, or be solemn
For they only gave me misery
Instead of love and mercy

I came back but ran away afterwards
Feeling scared, like the deer in the headlights
I see flashing signs, but it was what I thought it was
But isn't she lovely
Isn't she pretty

What does a pretty girl like you feel
Oh behind that pretty smile, hides the darkest secrets I was afraid to tell
Oh no one wants to know
But I'm too intrigued to show
Hey, I know, I thought it will only take me a while
I felt like I'm dying inside

Mask my pain, only anger remains
Leave thy past behind, they've been blind
But too foolish to mind
Mind games play thy minds
One wants to turn a blind eye, and a numb death
Makes me bleed, make them repent
Hollows are deadly, poison ivy

Look at me, stare into my eyes and never look away
Hold my hand and hug me close
Then hear what I have to say
Love, it’s you I couldn’t bear to lose

I've been waiting for a long time
To be somebody's prayer
I have looked everywhere for a long time
But here you are now and you have answered my prayer

I can't find the right words to say:
How grateful I am of having you
You are God’s blessing and a living gift to me
To have someone like you

Through our ups and downs, you have loved me
And I am glad that you chose to stay

Some people search their whole lives to find what I found in you
And nothing's ever going to change the way I feel for you
Cause you gave me feelings I cannot put into words
But as they say action speaks louder than words

Cause a glimpse of you is all I ever yearned
I know your love is earned
But thank you, for making me feel loved
Because for me, you are enough to be loved

I still love you
I still miss you
I still want you
I still need you

Love me and look into my eyes
Cause love, you made me crazier all the time
Touch me now as I close my eyes
Cause I miss you all the time

You made me choose
Don't worry, cause you're the one I'd always choose

You’re the missing piece who'll complete me
And I have already found a love for me
Look at me and stare into my eyes and never look away
Hold my hand and hug me close then hear what I have to say
Be by my side, hold my hand and hug me close then stay with me

What I see is my lifetime paradise
That's what I'm sure of
What I have now is my blessing in disguise
And he's one thing I'm sure of

What we had was a rollercoaster ride
You and I collide through the good times and the bad
I just could not take for granted what we had
You're my groom and I'll be your bride

Baby, you're the only one I want to spend the rest of my life with
You're the one I want to be with
I might not give what you wanted
But I got what you needed

Baby, hold my hand and we'll make it through
Cause I still love to love you

I know what we had was meant to be
And our relationship was tested through time
But the moment I saw you, I knew that you're the one for me
I hope it's your hand I'd end up holding till the end of time

I may not be a perfect lover for you
Although I make mistakes, I promise to never break your heart
With or without my presence, I will always be here for you
But I hope we never part

Your voice calms me like the sea
After a long and tiring day
Your angelic face is all I needed to see
And I can rest my worries with you

In your arms is where I wanted to stay
Cause I never want to let you go
You're that guy I never expected to have now
Now, who is willing to have me now.

Baby, you are my best view
I cannot take my eyes off of you
Ooh, you know how I loved you so
Hey, I got my focus on you

A soft woman is simply a wolf in meditation. She moves quietly through the world, observing, listening, cataloging every detail, every slight, every whisper that crosses her path.

Her calm is not submission. Her silence is not ignorance. It is a strategy, a shield, a way to gather strength when the world expects her to bend.

The most dangerous woman is not the one who screams, who lashes out, who exposes herself in anger. She is the one who sits in silence, unbothered, holding receipts in one hand and a whiskey in the other, pairing reflection with quiet celebration.

She does not need to justify herself. She does not need to explain her choices. She does not need to argue. Her life is her evidence, her actions her proof.

I do not hold grudges. I hold accountability. I remember every misstep, every betrayal, every careless word, not to hurt others, but to learn how I will respond next time.

I am a masterpiece, still in progress. I am learning the art of peace, the discipline of patience, the power of silence, and the way to sharpen my edges without losing my softness.

Softness does not equal weakness. Calm does not equal cowardice. Reflection does not equal inaction. I am learning to balance all of these, to wield them like instruments of precision.

Every slight, every manipulation, every attempt to undermine me becomes a lesson. It becomes a map of what I will never allow to take root in my life again.

I am aware of my power, my worth, my intuition. I trust my judgment. I trust my timing. I trust the quiet strength that builds within me each day.

I do not need approval. I do not need admiration. I do not need applause. My validation comes from my awareness, my growth, my ability to remain unshaken while others falter.

I measure my responses with care. I choose when to speak, when to act, and when to remain silent. I understand that timing is everything, and silence often carries more weight than words.

I am the calm before the storm. I am the shadow that goes unnoticed until it is too late. I am the quiet force that can dismantle arrogance without lifting a hand.

I observe. I analyze. I move deliberately. I understand human nature and the ways people reveal themselves when they think no one is watching.

I celebrate myself. I do not need others to recognize my victories. I acknowledge them. I honor them. I let them strengthen me for the battles yet to come.

I forgive, yes. But I do not forget. I forgive to free myself, to release the weight that would otherwise hold me down. I remember to protect, to navigate, to survive.

I create boundaries. I enforce them gently but firmly. I do not allow chaos, manipulation, or cruelty to dictate my life. I do not yield to those who thrive on tearing others down.

I am precise. I am deliberate. I am aware. My actions are calculated, not careless. My silence is intentional, not empty.

I am resilient. I rise. I endure. I thrive in ways that cannot be measured by the judgments of others, by the opinions of those who fail to understand the depth of my mind.

And above all, I am free. Free to learn, to love, to celebrate, to be quiet, to be dangerous, to be soft, to be unshakable. I am free to master peace in a world that confuses noise for power.

I am a soft woman, a wolf in meditation, a quiet storm. I am deliberate, dangerous, aware, and alive. And no one—not even the chaos of the world—can touch the power that grows within me in silence.

every pathway I walked on feels like trouble
scents I smell stinks like rumble
I hurrah in chaos and mess
I stand up, wear my crown and never be unbowed

penny for your thoughts?
Maybe I need a drachma for the ferryman to take me there
show me what lies behind or beyond your deception and betrayal

I adore my eyes. They are obsidian mirrors, reflecting not just light but the shadows of those who dare cross me.

They can glow with warmth, like lanterns in a haunted hall, soft beacons for those who walk honestly beside me.

But they twist. Slowly, like smoke curling from a dying flame. And then, suddenly, they harden, sharp as a raven’s talon, edged with contempt.

When anger rises, my eyes do not scream. They pierce. They roll, a dark warning, as if the void itself has taken residence within them.

I savor this duality. My gaze is both sanctuary and abyss, gentle as dusk, lethal as a midnight storm.

And there is my smirk. Not of delight, not of play, but of inevitable reckoning. Karma drips like candle wax, slow, precise, unavoidable.

The smirk is a shadow dancing across my lips, the quiet promise that all sins will return to those who commit them.

Silence is my armor. My stillness is a fortress. And the world misreads it as submission, when it is mastery of all they cannot comprehend.

I stare. I measure. I let the scene imprint itself on my mind. And then, just as quietly, I look away. I turn. I walk. Leaving them to wonder if I ever noticed at all.

My eyes reveal nothing. And yet they betray everything. A cathedral of judgment and reflection, untouched by their shallow games.

When the smirk appears, it is the herald of storms. It unnerves the unsuspecting, whispers of shadows that slither just beyond their sight.

I can be tender, yet monstrous. Soft, yet lethal. A delicate rose entwined with black thorns that pierce the careless.

The smirk is not vanity. It is forewarning. It is the knowledge that the wicked will meet the mirror of their own making.

My eyes are sharpened instruments, tuned to detect deceit, to perceive hidden malice, to anticipate treachery before it lands.

I love how the smirk grows with arrogance, thickens with audacity, like fog settling over a forgotten grave.

I do not strike in haste. I do not rage. I wait. I watch. And the darkness gathers around me, patient, precise, inevitable.

My gaze is fierce. My smirk is doom cloaked in elegance. Together, they are a cathedral of judgment no lie can withstand.

Softness and ferocity coexist, like moonlight and shadow, dusk and grave, kindness and the guillotine waiting silently.

People see calm, composure, serenity. But inside, my smirk and my eyes are a midnight symphony, conducting the reckoning yet to come.

Above all, I love that my gaze, paired with that smirk, speaks louder than any sword or scream could. They are history, justice, inevitability—poised, patient, gothic, eternal.

Did I develop these pictures just to burn it
Write these letters just to shred it
Sang songs during sobriety
Danced on the dancefloor, feeling high
"It was us against the world," what a pretty little liar you are
You left me all alone. In the streets sleeping.

That night, when you drove me home, was it out of gesture?
Or was it the last time you went and wanted to see me?

Because when I wore that red satin dress, you dumped me.
But I strived harder, moved to Harvard to study Law but not to follow you
No wonder a girl like me from sorority
Would become a lawyer someday.