#filipino

why do lovers blame love when things get hard?

when they’re the ones who believe in fate
but not in making things work.

and they’re the ones who let destiny take over
when they fail to decide for themselves

love did no wrong.
love made no mistakes.
for love is pure.

it’s the heart that isn’t.

if i lit a spark
down my throat
and let it
burn its way
through my veins,

if i set fire
to my hopes
and watch
the memory of us
burn up
in flames,

i would
catch fire
trying
to reach
for the ashes.

we ache so much

for someone

to fill our

empty spaces

losing sight

of what love is

and what love

is not.

i feed the hollow
inside my stomach
and in return
it leaves me alone
and empty
and aching;
shivering
at the edge of my bed
with my head on my knees
and a sting on my chest.

every day i rise
to the thought
of seeing him;
of another day
to wrap my arms
around his body
and keep him warm.

and every night i set
to the thought
of losing him;
to the harsh winds
and the cold breeze
and to the grey woman
his eyes are set upon.

but tomorrow i will rise again.

#3 | an astronomical trilogy

she rules over me;
my tides, my emotions
she holds me down
she pulls me over
and i oblige
i’m at her mercy
every time.

she stuck around me
but her tired eyes
are far away; at a distance
she’s stuck around me
forever
even when i know
she will never;
be mine.
not truly.

#2 | an astronomical trilogy

he can’t touch me
he’s scared
he’ll burn too bright
never knowing
i loved him
for the same reason
everyday.

he won’t touch me
he’s afraid
i’ll catch fire
never knowing
it’s the same fire
that keeps me alive
everyday.

#1 | an astronomical trilogy

when you asked me back
i thought this time
wecould be better

but what i failed to remember
was how we fell apart
in the first place.

and this time, was no different
we fell, and then again,
once more, we fell apart.

it was a love revived
just so it could die a final death
the second time around.

this is not the kind of love i need

and it’s not the kind of love i deserve

but it’s the only kind of love you can give

so i don’t mind if it hurts.

how have revolutions
been merely reduced
from strongly taking a stand
to suddenly standing on our own graves?

how have we been silenced
by the very set of people
whose only duties were supposed to be
making the voices of the masses heard?

how are we to fight back
as a patronizing nation
if our very own opressor
is the one seated in power?

how are we to turn this around?
if in breaking the wheel of the tyrants,
the power must lie within the people.

but the people doesn’t know;
and the people refuses to see
that every revolution has begun
with the people’s plea.

it’s walking the city streets
with my face blending into
a blur of a million passing faces.

it’s being lost in a sea
of art and talent
and never reaching the surface.

it’s looking up and realizing
i’m too far below the summit
of the highest skyscraper.

it’s being unremarkable,
and not being bad,
that i fear most in this life. 

The early morning rises and my mind is still awake, my body is pumped, and my heart is still beating fast from the three cups of coffee it took me to keep my eyes open throughout the night. I waited just in case you wake up. It was just in case you call me in the middle of the night again; or maybe at the crack of dawn, when the world is still half asleep and the only two people conscious of everything that is real are you and I. It was just in case you needed a break from the truth. I was willing to be your refuge. I could rest among the darkness when I am with you, no matter if you’ll be gone when the sun comes up.