thursdays and rain

2012-01-29T01:25:00.000-08:00

hit and run romance …♥

Everyone said it was love at first sight but it was more of a hit and run if you ask me (because good girls always fall for the bad boys). He was looking dangerous, as usual and she was the new student who wore thick bracelets to hide the scars on her wrists. They accidentally bumped into each other at the cafeteria and he hastily picked up her stuff, mumbled an apology and walked away. No one knew his mother spent overtime waiting tables to make ends meet so he had to skip last period to pick up his little brother from school which always got him into detention.

Her step-father always got home drunk and vents his frustration and anger towards his pregnant wife so she constantly locks herself inside her room and scribbles frantically on her notebook, yearning to become a poet and live in a world of invented metaphors.

He doesn't want to be found and she had no desire to be remembered and it was as if their hearts beat in unison with the moon’s sorrow.

He found her at a party and thought she was the most beautiful wallflower he had ever seen. They ran outside, rode on his motorcycle and made a sweet escape from the hell they were trapped in. Stopping at a deserted playground, they wished on the same shooting star and screamed a prayer at the top of their lungs.

She told him about her nightmares and showed him the cuts on her arms. He kissed each mark and wished her sweet dreams and drove her home.

But the voices inside her head were getting louder, like nails being hammered on her skull. They found her lying unconscious on her bed, almost dead with an empty bottle of pills clutched in her hand.

She woke up in the hospital and he was there, asleep on a chair beside her. He roused when she started to cry and she told him about the voices and how her bad dreams about being abused seem so real that she didn't know what to believe in anymore.

He hugged her tight and promised to take her to a place where the voices couldn't touch them.

They got married instantly after graduation.

Everyone said it was love at first sight but it was more of a hit and run if you ask me.

2012-01-01T06:04:00.000-08:00

nangahatak na mga dahon

sakto ang imong mga gipanghuna-huna.
walay kapuslanan ang akong mga gipangbati.
wala silay importansiya sa kining kalibutana
nga wala pa man gani masabtan.

sama sa mga gipanglata na mga buwak
sa mga karaan na notebook,
ang nahabilin ra nako
kay mga handumanan.

bisan sa akong pagtulog,
sige lang gihapon ko ug gihamok
sa mga gipanggisi-gisi nga palid
sa akong kagahapon.

sa pagtak-om sa akong mga mata,
ang ako rang makit-an kay mga damgo
na dapat nang biyaan.

unsaon man nako paglikay sa
niining mga damgo
nga gusto nako ug ilabay na
mura ug mga abug sa hangin?

kung mobagay ang pagpospos
sa atong mga kasingkasing,
ang buot bang ipasabot niini
na kita usa ra ug kalag ug usa ra ug espiritu?

usaon man nako pagpangita ug
kahulogan kung wala man gani ko
kasabot sa atong kahimtang?

ug sa pagsayaw-sayaw nato sulod niining trahedyaha,
ang akong gugma para kanimo kay
mura ug mga dahon nga

n
a
n
g
a
h
a
t
a
k

gikan sa mga kahoy,
patay ug gikalimtan ra
dapit sa dalan.

2011-09-22T08:19:00.000-07:00

…harlequin girl…

She constantly wondered what sunsets tasted like. If it’s anything like lemonade on a hot summer’s day in June or a cold coca cola topped with vanilla ice cream (that she always thought was invented by her dad) and if it’s as salty as a butterfly’s teardrop or as sweet as a first kiss.

Every cloudy day, she would open her mouth and show her tongue just to figure out the rain’s flavor and whether if it’s as saccharine as the fragrance of dewdrops on the grass or as bitter as the aftertaste of an aspirin tablet.

At nights, after doing her math homework or studying for a science test, she would open her window to stare at the quilted sky. She often pondered if the moon was ever lonely from all the stars that surrounded it and if it realized it was beautiful even if it was different.

Sometimes, she mused over her reflection and wondered if she was pretty even without make-up and lip gloss and if boys would notice her even when she wasn’t like other girls who wore tight tops and short mini-skirts. She tried to imitate them once but ended up looking like a cross between a clown and a zombie, whichever was worse.

And so, like any other story of a girl, our heroine fell in love with a boy but the aforementioned boy didn’t even know she existed, so she would sit by the steps of the stairs near the library and wondered what sunsets tasted like; if it’s as sweet as teenage dreams or as sour as unrequited love.

2011-09-15T20:43:00.000-07:00

Autumn in E-minor

Precious,

I watched you from my window as you made your descent, reminiscent of a slow suicide. You reminded me of broken dreams and tattered wings that were ripped directly from my heart. As you gracefully plummeted to the ground, my tears fell with you. I supposed death was still beautiful, like the gradual decaying of seasons as they disintegrated into ashes and faded into ghosts right before my jaded eyes. Their memories haunted me like a song played in E-minor even now.

When you died in my arms, I held you long enough until your last breath. You killed yourself when summer abandoned you and became sunshine’s paramour. All I could do was watched you fall over and over again until the bruises on your knees turned into scars. I knew you would disappear eventually but I didn’t realize it would cause this much pain. When you passed away, I buried myself alive and forgot how to write poetry.

Sometimes, I talk to the sky, baring my soul to the moon as I drown my misery with thoughts of you. I extend my arms to your silhouette every time I hear your voice at night as you murmur my name in the shadows.

Please take me away with you...

Love, Tiara

2011-09-15T05:50:00.000-07:00

Gemini

They were just two naïve girls, oblivious to the word “forbidden” and how innocence had a price. Let’s call them August and September (like friends, like sisters, like lovers). They were diverse as night and day but they were inseparable. They were born under the same star and they could finish each other’s sentences and knew exactly what the other was thinking. August was somewhat of a rebel, always questioning authority and she broke all the rules every chance she got and constantly got both of them into trouble. She could play the guitar and the piano in her sleep. September was more of a romantic and her voice was like that of an angel. She could paint as well and capture a beautiful photograph with her DSLR camera. Together, they endured high school even when their classmates thought they were strange. They didn’t care what others thought of them though. They had big plans after graduation and no one was going to stop them.

-‘-,’-,’-,’-,’-,’-,’-,’-

“Ada! Wait up.” Claire yelled, panting hard after making a sprint towards her friend.

Adalyn closed her locker after grabbing some books and asked, “What is it?”

“We have a gig at The Aftershock!” she cried out and they both jumped up and down excitedly.

“Oh my gosh! That’s awesome! When?”

“Well, their usual band cancelled at the last minute so we play Saturday…”

“Saturday, as in three days from now?!” Ada exclaimed, overwhelmed with the unexpected turn of events.

Claire nodded guiltily.

“Does Jaden know?”

“No. I’ll tell him after school”

“Okay. Can I stay for dinner? We have lots of rehearsing to do.”

-‘-,’-,’-,’-,’-,’-,’-,’-

“Tell me, am I crazy, or is this more than a crush?”

Ada whispered the last line, her voice filled with a miasma of feelings. When the music ended, the crowd screamed for an encore. She closed her eyes. She felt great. When she sang, she slowly drifted to that place beyond the clouds where her dreams hung upside-down and she could pluck them one by one like rose petals. She faded away into a moment where yesterday’s feelings are all she had left. She fell in love with a boy once but he abandoned her, leaving her alone to pick up the pieces of her rag doll heart and stitch them back together. She should have known better. Her father left her when she was only eight years old and her mother was never the same since. But silly Adalyn, she still believed in fairytales and love. She wished that one day, someone will rescue her from this ache in her heart. At seventeen, she gave up.

“Good job, girls.” Jaden, Claire’s older brother and also their drummer for the time being, hugged them both after their performance.

“Not bad for your first gig.” Kelly, Jaden’s girlfriend, muttered as she placed her arms around his neck and kissed him.

Ada sighed and wondered if what she felt was really was more than just a crush. Claire noticed her tears but decided not to say anything.

Claire was dying. She’d always known since she was a kid that she would fade eventually but she hated not being in control. She hated wondering if this day will be her last and if her existence is even worth remembering. Music is her religion and if there is a god, he is probably some random rock star in a poster that she pinned against her wall. She learned to appreciate pain like an addiction. At first, it was just little cuts – pieces of her self that she attempted to hide underneath her pillow but she bled every time she tried to scratch those painful memories out of her skin. She knew she will never be good enough. She will never be that pretty girl with the designer clothes paid for courtesy by her daddy’s gold credit card.

Ada squeezed her hand and smiled. Claire grinned back and they started to pack their equipment and carried them toward Kelly’s van.

-‘-,’-,’-,’-,’-,’-,’-,’-

“We still have to do some tests. Claire’s condition is very rare.” The doctor informed her parents. They were at the hospital for her monthly check-up. She knew she wasn’t feeling any better and she supposed it was for the best. She didn’t dare dream of living a long life because she knew she will just be disappointed. She wasn’t afraid of dying. She was more frightened of telling her best friend the truth, leaving Ada alone to fulfill their foolish dreams.

When they arrived home, Claire immediately ran upstairs and went to her room. She slammed the door shut and locked herself in. She cried. She screamed. She cried some more. She lied on her bed and stared blankly at the ceiling and as she wiped her tears with her t-shirt, she wondered why God bothered to create her when she will just die young in the end. Both her parents were devout Catholics and it was instilled inside her brain that there was a compassionate God who sent His only Son, Jesus Christ to save the sinners from their sins. She knew her mother meant well when she taught her children about Christianity. Claire used to believe all of it but as she grew older, she figured it was all bullshit.

-‘-,’-,’-,’-,’-,’-,’-,’-

“Hey, Claire.” Ada dashed to keep up with her friend who was clearly engrossed with her thoughts. It was already Friday afternoon and their classes ended half an hour ago. Claire slowed her pace but didn’t smile like she used to. Ada was perplexed. She supposed her friend was having problems at home but she didn’t know how serious the situation was. She shrugged and walked until they reached Claire’s house. It was near their school and Ada usually invited herself in for dinner because Mrs. Green, Claire’s mom, was a great cook.

“Salamat po. That was delicious.” Ada thanked Mrs. Green after a hearty meal. Since Mrs. Green was a Filipina, Ada learned some useful Tagalog phrases she picked up on her own when she listened to the family talk.

“Walang anuman, Adalyn. You can bring some adobo home since I know they are your paborito.” Claire’s mother offered. Ada smiled and muttered her gratitude.

Both girls went to Claire’s room and Ada sat on the bed first.

“What’s wrong? You’ve been quiet since dinner.” Ada wanted to know.

“Huh? Nothing. Nothing’s wrong.” Claire exclaimed defensively.

“If you say so.” Ada just shrugged and grabbed her book bag and decided to go home on her own. Jaden used to drive her home but since he already had a girlfriend, he was seldom at the house.

-‘-,’-,’-,’-,’-,’-,’-,’-

Claire felt guilty because she didn’t tell Ada about her leukemia. They were supposed to be the best of friends and yet, she still kept her illness a secret. She was afraid Ada would abandon her once she knew the truth. She grabbed her guitar beside her bed and plucked some chords.

She was in love with her best friend but her best friend was in love with someone else and worse, it was her brother. She always thought her feelings for Ada would fade but as she got to know her better, she knew it was more than mere infatuation.

-‘-,’-,’-,’-,’-,’-,’-,’-

It was their fifth gig at the Aftershock but Ada still felt a little nervous and a little nauseous. After playing their final song, Claire grabbed her hands and dragged Ada along with her outside the bar to a secluded spot. She kissed her for the first time. Ada kissed her back.

They giggled together, apparently feeling a little euphoric. They both knew their parents wouldn’t approve so they kept their relationship secret.

-‘-,’-,’-,’-,’-,’-,’-,’-

After graduation, they decided to postpone college for a year. They would try their luck in pursuing a career in music. They decided to call themselves Gemini and nicknamed each other August and September. They would kiss in public but they didn’t care. Once their families found out, especially their parents, they could do nothing about it.

August, as Adalyn fondly called Claire, finally confessed about her sickness. September was devastated but she knew they were destined for greatness and they could conquer anything, even death.

2011-09-12T06:46:00.000-07:00

H e a r t s o n G ♥

-‘-,’-,’-,’-,’-,’-,’-

DAY ONE:

There are times when I urge my heart to stop beating just so I could hear you breathe.

I suppose my bitter subconscious cannot handle yesterday because it keeps shoving memories at the back of my mind where it is difficult to touch. It's similar to watching a car crash in slow motion, every thing is a blur and like a damned butterfly, you can't do anything because your wings are ripped.

Thoughts float inside tiny bubbles within my mind and every time I try to reach them with my fingers, my fleeting assumptions burst and disappear. My skull is a blank mess, laced with inconspicuous logic. Whenever I think too much, I become lost and forget every thing else as I climb the winding staircase within my head.

I lie awake in bed, waiting for something to happen. Maybe I’m waiting for time to stop. Or maybe I am just waiting for you but I don’t know why I still hold on to something that doesn’t even exist.

Love, I’ve waited for you for a long time and now that time is dead to me, the sky is torn and I am broken.

My heart no longer screams your name.

DAY TWO:

I see your face in between these paragraphs. I hear your voice amidst these fingers tapping on the frayed keyboard. I smell your scent in these pressed daisies that died on page two of my journal. You are still the ghost of my dreams and as I tear the sheets of my notebook into pieces, I can feel a part of you fade.

DAY THREE:

I write these sunburned verses, dripping wet with satellite tears in each paragraph-- my pen resembling a syringe, injecting words to the veins of this page while I prepared a cocktail drink of rubbing alcohol and coca cola and swallowed it all in one sip. You are poison, threatening to murder my sanity with one kiss of the switchblade on my skin. Perhaps, one day, my bipolar heart will learn how to fall in and out of love without too much disgrace.

From my peripheral vision, I can see angels and demons riding paper-maché horses of a suicidal carousel, tempting me to join them. I wished them sweet dreams and declined their offer. I’d rather ride a rocket and fly to the moon because I know you’ll be there.

I’ll be your wendy and you can be my peter pan and we will build our tree house made of bubblegum and stardust. We can take turns smoking candy cigarettes and discover unnamed planets with our cardboard telescope. You will teach me how to play poker and we will mark each other’s faces with lipstick when someone loses. You’ll let me win all our pillow fights and I’ll tell you all my secret hideouts. You will keep all your promises and I’ll let you keep a piece of my heart.

DAY FOUR:

It all started when you touched my fingers and it hastily ended when you let go of my hand.

We were sitting at the front porch, eating junkfood and drinking sparkle soda while watching kites pirouette above our heads.

I wish I knew what you were thinking that day.

DAY FIVE:

Every time I wake up each morning leads me closer to my destruction. I am a disaster waiting to happen and it’s only a matter of time before I implode. I am a mess, sitting in front of the computer, keying in juvenile poetry about love when most of the time, I’m lying to myself.

I used to think life is what I planned it to be. Study and finish school, get a decent job, get married and have children, grow old and eventually fade away. But nobody told me about the things that happen in between. No one warned me about the nightmares that kill me slowly with each passing day. They seem so genuine that I don’t know what to believe and what to doubt. I can’t tell what’s real anymore.

I can only see you in my dreams and within the words that never leave my tongue. You are the person that got me stuck in the middle of nowhere, susceptible and with no sense of direction.

I don’t know if I want to push you away or beg you to stay or if I should be the one to run away.

I learned how to fall without expecting someone to catch me because you taught me how unfair life can be.

You are the reason why I hate facing tomorrow on my own and why I mutilate my wrists…

because the scars made me feel beautiful…

2011-09-10T19:31:00.000-07:00

the lament

I used to collect dreams and keep them in teacups so that I could take a sip of memories whenever I feel like drowning in nostalgia. Papa never lets me play with other little girls and boys. He usually keeps me locked up in my room with only books as playmates. I read a story of a girl like me once. She was locked up in a tower and one day, a prince rescued her from the clutches of an evil witch. I sigh and lean on the window, gazing at the snow as tears fall down my cheeks. I wish someone would take me away, even for a day and teach me how to climb trees and swim in ponds. We would draw different kinds of clouds and name them one by one and when it rains, we will hold hands and jump in puddles, making a great big splash. I giggled at the thought. Papa would be very angry, indeed.

I glanced at Mama’s portrait on my bedside table. Papa said I had her eyes, bottle green, the color of precious emeralds. “I miss you, Mama.” I murmured and said a prayer to the heavens. It’s been eight years since she mysteriously disappeared. Papa never talks about it. Since then, I wasn’t allowed to go outside.

It was after midnight, I think, when I woke up from a hazy dream. Someone was throwing pebbles at my window. I got up from my bed and inched towards the sound. I could see a silhouette of a boy my age, waving at me. “Come with me.” he whispered, only loud enough for me to hear.

I tiptoed down the stairs, careful not to make a sound. I didn’t know who the boy was but his face was familiar. Perhaps he was my prince, ready to rescue me from this ache in my heart.

Ever since then, we would rendezvous at night, the darkness fast becoming a part of the thrill. We would kiss under the stars and he would tell me stories far better than any book. He told me his name was Caleb.

One night, from a distance, I could hear faint weeping. I followed the voice towards the woods. I could see a shadow of a woman all in white by the pond, deep in lament. When she saw me, she cried even harder.

That’s when I noticed her eyes, bottle-green, the color of precious emeralds.

“Mama?” I exclaimed.

“When your father returned from his trip to the city and found out I was pregnant, he was furious. He killed me and threw my body in the river to sink. Now I haunt these woods, hoping you would find me so that I could tell you the truth.” she explained in that soft voice I know so well.

I ran away towards my house, horrified at what I learned. I bumped into Caleb and hugged him then I cried.

“What’s wrong, Alya?”

“Alya? But I’m Alyss. Alya is my mother’s name.”

I stared into his eyes and found out the truth. He killed himself when he found out that Mama died and like her, he was a ghost that haunted this place.

He was my mother’s lover.

2011-09-10T05:36:00.000-07:00

behind a mona lisa smile...

you are **g/*l/*i/*t/*t/*e/*r** on the

,..d,..e,..s,..e,..c,..r,..a,..t,..e,..d,..

[e] [a] [r] [t] [h]

that originated from

…d…u…s…t…y s…t…a…r…s…
which st-stammer before

..o

..l

..p

..i

..g

)) to the ground ((
where

| b | r | o | k | e | n |

::b::o::t::t::l::e::s::

…[…vodka…]…
lay near your grandmother's

( g ) ( r ) ( a ) ( v ) ( e ) ^†

(¯`v´¯)
`•.¸.•´
☻/ you were always a
/▌ pretty thing >>♥<<
/ \ with a [[ ~lollipop-hued mouth~ ]] && ;; babushka doll eyes ;;

but as you hide behind your “~~mona lisa~~ smile”,

nobody knew that you p r a y t h e r o § a r y
every time you wake up from a [n][i][g][h][t][m][a][r][e]
and sign your name ǝpısdn uʍop on your diary
and wished on

*´¨)

¸.•´¸.•*´¨) ¸.•*¨)

(¸.•´ (¸.• ♥ .:.* windblown dandelions *.:.

while smoking your step brother's cigarette

that you managed to steal from his bathroom cabinet.

(\(\ you keep your dad's pistol hidden underneath your pillow

(=’;') …empty except with only one bullet…
(,(“)(“) and play russian roulette with your reflection
on the mirror every night.

you were only ((fourteen))

when winter taught you how to

love...

and you gave up your dreams
to a boy that was eight years older
and as you begin to realize your mistake,
it was already too late.

-‘-,’-,’-,’-,’-,-‘-

by thursdays and rain ღ

091011

2011-09-10T05:15:00.000-07:00

put me to sleep, evil angel...

by Poetic Star & Thursdays and Rain

I close my eyes and feel the bitter wind caress my face.
I inhale deeply, but now even breathing seems jaded.
The air in my lungs is unnecessary.
It doesn’t keep me alive,
Just suffocates my sanity.

Rain pours down my collar,
Though I don’t feel anything
Except an insatiable desire,
Standing on this ledge.

Living in futile existence,
I am numb and frozen -
My soul is lifeless.

Humans are so fragile,
Fickle and gullible.
They prefer to hide from the truth.
And when it all comes
crashing down,
They shatter into tiny pieces.

That’s why I’m here..

The city is the perfect place to find despair
In the form of tortured minds
and bleeding hearts.
Tired of hurting, dearest?
Don’t worry, I’ll gladly be your antidote.

Adrenaline pushes my feet off the edge,
Catapulting me over buildings
Streaked in black ink.
The bridge looms in the distance;
A symbol of sweet dramatic death.
Humans always have to make a scene.
They never think to leave quietly.
I feel the stillness of my dead heart
And think maybe what I crave is
Something close to rebellion.
The music in your room is
A distraction from the pills
On your dresser,
Remnants of a failed suicide.
I watch you from outside
As you lie on your bed,
Wiping at your bloodshot eyes.

Hearing the rain hit the glass,
You watch its slow descent..
Oh let me in!

Pretty girl with tears in your eyes,
Maybe I’ll find you
Wandering around someday
But tonight you’re mine.

And I watch you sleep
Just to plague your dreams.
I trail my fingers down your neck and cheek,
Collecting stray tears.
My body’s cold but you don’t seem to mind;
The way you come closer,
As if you’ve been waiting all your life..

Let go of yesterday,
Follow me, darling.
I’ll teach you to fly.

You reach out and press your hand against my chest.
My heart hasn’t beat for a thousand winters
But the depths of your brown eyes make me shudder.

I’m inside your head,
Whispering temptations in the dark.
We’ll take the backstreet towards heaven
And sneak in if the gates are locked.

Darling, you look so beautiful when you fall.

-'-,'-,'-,'-,'-,'-,'-,'-,'-

2011-06-20T05:48:00.000-07:00

Anthem of the Damned

(fly away with me and let’s smother the sky with our very own memories)

the hand-me-down horizon

is burned by your innocent tears

so don’t let the sunspots

in your eyes fade

even when it rains

because heaven is hell

without you

(yeah, it’s simply hell without you)

perfection is your only flaw

because I could never

incarcerate

your beauty

on just an ordinary

piece of paper

(you are God’s beautiful mistake, sweetheart)

you are like white peonies

that bloom only for me

in late spring or early summer

(you could make an angel fall with just a kiss)

-'-,'-,'-,'-,'-

inspired by the book Fallen by Lauren Kate

2011-06-15T23:33:00.000-07:00

h a u n t e d

I held onto the railing of the old spiral staircase as I went up. My fingertips were laced with dust from where I touched it. I wiped my filthy hands on my jeans and continued climbing up the narrow steps.

I could see my reflection on one of mirrors in the hallway as I reached the landing. Pale hazel eyes gazed back. But there was something strange about it. Something different.

I could hear faint giggles from one of the rooms. Odd. I thought this house was abandoned. I shivered slightly. I searched for where the voices came from and eventually reached the last room. It was a little ajar. Curious, I went inside. It was pitch black. I had to squint to make sense of my surroundings. I hunted for a switch on the wall and managed to turn the lights on.

A soft glow illuminated the area.

It was just like any regular room. There was a bed near the window with a study table and a chair beside it. There was a collection of books on a shelf by the wall. I skimmed through the titles and found nothing of interest. I sat on the bed and sighed.

When my parents decided that we should move to another town, there was already too much pain in my heart that I didn’t argue with them. Since my little brother’s death, nothing was ever the same. Mama was always crying and Papa was always busy at work to console Mama and me. So when my father chose to work for a different company, we all agreed that it was a good idea.

I surveyed the room again, the walls were painted a pale powder blue with navy curtains. It was also surprisingly neat.

“So, I see you’ve already chosen a room.” Mother said, leaning on the door.

“Yes. Is it okay with you though if I stay in this room?” I asked.

“Certainly. I don’t see why not.” She smiled and planted a kiss on my forehead.

“Dinner is at seven, dearest.” She reminded me.

I nodded and went downstairs with her to get my stuff and unpack.

-‘-,’-,’-,’-,’-,’-,-‘-

After dinner, I excused myself and went to my room. I switched the light on then noticed something was on my bed. Oh, just an old stuffed bear. But I don’t remember putting it here though. Wait. This was Josh’s teddy. I recognized it immediately. I thought Mama donated all of his stuff. She apparently forgot about this one. I cuddled the bear and thought of my little brother. I sighed forlornly and placed it on the table. Good night, I said to no one in particular and dozed off.

-‘-,’-,’-,’-,’-,’-,-‘-

I woke up early the next morning. I stretched my arms and craved for some hot chocolate. I went down the stairs towards the kitchen. What the---? Sitting on one of the chairs was the bear. Okay, this is starting to creep me out. I didn’t notice someone went inside my room last night.

I shrugged and reached for the thermos and poured some hot chocolate on a mug. I savored its taste and mused over the bear. Hmm... Maybe someone did check up on me yesterday when I was asleep but why bring the bear here? I grabbed the bear and hugged it. I went inside the living room. I turned the television on and flipped through the channels. I settled for MTV and started to sing along with the song playing on the music channel.

The day was uneventful. I was watching TV most of the time. It was just the start of summer so I had no classes until September.

After a delicious dinner, I crept up the stairs to my room, taking the teddy bear with me. I sat on the chair and began to read this book called “Madapple”. It’s about this girl who was a suspect of her mother’s mysterious death.

I checked the clock on the table and noticed that it was almost midnight. I put the book down and lied on the bed, staring at the ceiling. I was starting to get sleepy so I closed my eyes.

“You killed him. You killed him.”

I woke up suddenly. It was still dawn. I stared at the bear on my table. I started crying then. I could remember everything that happened in a painful vivid scene inside my head.

I was so annoyed with my brother because he gets all the attention. I hate him. I threw the teddy bear in the pool. I didn’t know he loved that stupid bear so much. He drowned that day.

Yes, I killed him.

060511

2011-06-05T18:54:00.000-07:00

autumn of the Seraphs

The night the seraphs came, I was sitting on the porch swing, sipping ice tea. I remember murmuring a secret to the moon that left a trail of surreptitious kisses, forming a stairway to the sky. People say if you follow that starry path, you’ll never come back so I sat there, thinking, Is heaven just a crack in the ceiling?

Autumn left me a glass of wine with a note that said: From my brother. I was startled because she’s beautiful with silky titian hair and skin like rose petals. So I thought, he must be just as glorious. I felt intimidated. And it was true, Autumn’s brother was like an angel that had fallen, crashing through the heavens one stormy night in September. He sank in the water but didn’t drown. I watched from the dock where I’d been tying my daddy’s boat. His body was white and solid like a stone, floating down the lake. There were bruises all over his back and his lips were pale. Up close, I saw his eyes, wide awake with a flame that was hard to restrain. I wanted to know his name but he said he didn’t have one. So I called him Aiden because it means little fire.

We sat under a cover of moss, waiting for the storm to pass. And when it did, we climbed up the trail to my cabin. The birds at my window tried to warn me that time was passing but I didn’t listen because I’d been waiting for love to take me like Aiden did, softly. My hands curled round the hairs at the back of his neck. His scent was a mix of burning leaves and vanilla, and I soaked it in.

We danced to the rhythm of the rain. It was beautiful in a stolen way. I stroked the plains of his chest with my fingertips, tracing the marks left over from another existence. And his last day on earth came too quickly. He’d woken up first and said, Come take a walk with me, his lips twisting into a sweet crooked smile; irresistible, so I followed.

The woods were lit with candles on every tree. It was like a dream except for the harsh reality.

And I laid on the ground, waiting for love to kill me because the longing was unbearable and lust weighed me down.

We’re all scared of yesterday’s silhouette that haunts us in our dreams but I’m tired of burying the past in the back of my mind. I’m stuck inside these memories because I lost my heart that November and he never gave it back.

A few days later, I saw his sister and she gave me a sad smile as if to say, I wish things were different.

-'-,'-,'-,'-,-'-

collab with Poetic Star ♥

[ http://allpoetry.com/poem/8708493 ]

2011-04-22T19:45:00.000-07:00

fall with me

I am damned within these shackles, incarcerated

by my own preference. I rather not implore to
someone who is deaf-mute and with no mercy.
The angels can do nothing to save me.

I seek no redemption from this ardent devotion.
I am a selfish believer and love is my only
religion. The night is sacrilegious
and your name is the only
prayer I know.

I’d rather kiss your lips and worship your mouth
in atonement for my transgressions.
We can be each other’s sacrament
in reparation for our faultless
imperfections.

Come fall with me and together we can
burn paradise. Be my valentine
and I’ll be your sweet
sacrifice.

I genuflect and offer you my
heart as I surrender to
your touch.

2011-03-29T16:28:00.000-07:00

The Taste of Your Dreams

I suffocate you with November promises under the January moon,

candy-coated and soursweet as the stardust fermented in our eyes

and you begin to dance with the ghosts lingering inside my mind

while my thoughts dissipate with your melancholic song.

You paint this page with harlequin disorder

and I am drunk with hemorrhaging rainbows

like the smoke seeping through my skull

from the cigarette in between your fingers.

There is melody in your fading breath

and I yearn to incarcerate what’s left

of our memories in an old shoebox,

kept and locked inside my heart.

You stitch poetry through my hands with

caffeine-induced madness and your words

bleed like graffiti on the stained-glass

windows of the church walls.

You kiss my lips in arrogance

while we make love and I can

taste your dreams dissolving

snowflakes on my tongue.

♥

2011-03-14T07:19:00.000-07:00

a p o c a l y p s e
03.14.11

-'-,-'-,-'-,-'-,-'-

Seraphim crashed from the sky like shooting stars,
fulfilling the last torn page of revelation
as the angels wept in bended knees
for a girl who was willing to be
a sweet sacrifice.

A price she had to pay for the faithless.

Demons in the guise of men will
rape her fragile body but can
never possess her
sacred soul.

Her blood is in the hands of the sinners.

And I stood from a distance, paralyzed and mute,
helplessly watching the wicked scene
replaying inside my head before
my very eyes.

I still dream of the world being swallowed up by the Virgin’s tears.

I cursed God and lost faith in humanity
for we were filthy and unworthy
of Jesus’ selfless love.

Father, why have You forsaken me?

So I let darkness consume my entire being and killed
innocent people in my thoughts, craving to cut
out their gossip-monger tongues and
even prayed for their demise.

Beloved, welcome to the other side.

-'-,-'-,-'-,-'-,-'-

lunes

2011-03-09T19:12:00.000-08:00

she buries her memories of fall by the graveyard near her heart
as she whispers autumn's epitaph with an angel’s breath
because yesterday was just a dream to her
and november’s corpse is still dancing
with the stars and haunting the sky
even now.

winter is faking closure though spring already
muttered her farewell and as summer bursts
into flames, setting fire to her reveries,
she realizes that time has become
a part of her that she would
like to burn.

she bathes in ebony ink, trying to write
poetry with her gaunt fingers
but love never did rhyme
with forever.

that girl ♥

2011-01-09T21:07:00.000-08:00

I was always your wife.

even when we were still three years old
and we couldn’t pronounce
each other’s names right.

I was sitting on the swing on my own
in the pre-school’s playground
when you smiled and sat beside me;
I grinned back and that’s when we became friends.

you used to walk with me after school
and take me home
but one day, you confessed
that you liked this girl.

I pretended that I was happy for you
when deep inside I truly was not.
it’s not that I was jealous.. wait,
maybe I was jealous.

I avoided you for a week
and when you asked me what was wrong,
I just kept silent and didn’t answer.

we were in high school then
and we belonged to different crowds.
we drifted apart and my heart was filled with regret.

you called me on the phone one night
and we reminisced about our childhood days--
how we used to eat cotton candy
and watch anime marathons at your place.

I missed you, we both said in unison.

You never did tell me the name of the girl you liked, though..
I wondered out loud, my heart skipping a beat
with the butterflies in my gut.

Babe, that girl was you.

♥

2011-01-07T07:58:00.000-08:00

w a l l f l o w e r

it's the incessant ticking of the clock
the sound of an insomniac's heavy breathing
the midnight's effervescent lullaby
when darkness ruptures from the sky
whispering sibilant prayers
for the dead

it's the echo of gravel
whilst a pick-up pulls
into the driveway

it's the magic of dawn
right before the sun rises
singing its song with the zephyr

it's the repercussions of
my worn-out fingers typing
on the frayed keyboard

it's the aftermath of dreams
the aftertaste of winter
the afterthought of a sonnet

it's the melody of a special mixtape
playing your very own soundtrack
on the stereo

it's the rhythm of my heartbeat
in tune with the rain
and my own tears

it's the ghost that haunts me
every night when I shut my eyes

it's me staring into the horizon,
tracing stars and searching
for an outline of your face

...

dream of me

2011-01-07T07:52:00.001-08:00

Dress me up in perfidy and ebullient bullshit

while my love for you

diffuses in sunlight

and decomposes like the corpses

that are hanging on to trees,

staring up at the sky

with their eyes open wide.

Stars implode between my fingers

while vacant spaces disperse within your maladroit kisses

as the sun bleeds staccato memories

and drives nails through my skull.

You came to me in a dream

(in a whisper)

and as I lie awake at night,

I wonder when you were coming back

to dance with me

under the vindictive rain

inside my head

and when I finally wake up,

there are bruises on my body--

scars that sketch like confessions

on to my skin.

Baby, your arsenic lips still taste like winter never ended

and you know I'd kill myself for more.

with you

2011-01-02T17:12:00.000-08:00

I hope it rains. I hope it drowns my nightmares until they decay with the setting sun. I stare at the sky and wistfully wish for the clouds to cry for me one last time. There is no salvation left for me. God has already forsaken me and yet, I continue to pray. I continue to hope. I continue to believe that someday, forever will finally mean something to me.

I used to stare at the stars, searching for answers; searching for meaning, searching for purpose. But in the end, I realized that even the light cannot rescue me from my own darkness. I let it consume me until it has become a part of me.

I have always been lost and I never want to be found. I suppose it is because I do not wish to take a glimpse of freedom just to lose it all over again.

But maybe this is my destiny-- to be eternally damned…

with you.

---♥---

dearest angel,

You woke me up with this insatiable yearning for you that has fractured my judgment and reason. I just can't seem to get enough. The more I resist, the stronger my desire gets, yet I do not want to surrender. You have become my only weakness-- my beautiful temptation, and the intoxicating smell of your blood has become my only oxygen.

I want a scar to linger on your skin-- my own special mark to make certain that you are mine. Even if you still breathe, always remember that the day will eventually end and finally we can be together.

Time cannot tear us apart and even death cannot make us part.

Promise me forever, love, even if it's just for a moment.

what's left of me

2010-12-12T22:47:00.000-08:00

♥

with your face kissed by the stars,
I hold your hand one last time
and close my eyes
and wish for a miracle

you are already a part
of my continuing dreams
and I yearn for truth
in your eyes

we're tangled up in feelings
to those days that
have been left behind

and all I have gotten left are
old photographs of you and me
and forgotten letters
from an ancient shoebox
filled with tender memories
of days gone by

and as I watch your smile
fade from your lips
and the sound of your heartbeat
grows still and silent,
I will wait until the time I can
finally hold you in my arms
like I used to when you were still
right here beside me.

120710

2010-12-07T07:54:00.000-08:00

with your name tattooed across my heart.

peel off layers of deception and skin

and let me kiss the tip of your nose
as we see through each other's façade
and dance to the rhythm
of our waning heartbeat.

with your eyes closed,
I catch a glimpse of perfection
and as I run my fingers through your hair
and press my lips to your cheek,
I listen to your breathing
as we hold hands and
feel our reason slowly slip away.

and in the end,
nothing else will matter
because eventually, we will fade
into dust and stain the pages
of history books
with your name tattooed
across my
heart.

♥

poison star

2010-11-10T04:11:00.000-08:00

I fell in love with the sun

the moment it burned
my transient thoughts
with falsetto memories
and it plays my story
like an antique piano
and I like to sit on the rooftop
just so I could kiss Sunday mornings
with cyanide lips.

I paint your picture
in the spaces within my mind
with my fingers and raindrops
and try to compose you a song
that eclipse with my dreams.

I drowned in November's tears
that I still taste on my tongue.

I am your toxic moon
and you were always my poison star.

seven pm catharsis

2010-11-10T04:04:00.000-08:00

she's looking for salvation in all the wrong places
and she prays to a powerless god that must be deaf-mute
because even if he witnesses everything,
he can't do a thing
and doesn't do anything

and she used to stare at the sky a lot,
wondering what's holding it in position
since it never comes crashing down

well, until now

because the horizon is bleeding poetry
and is waiting for the right poet
to capture its splinters
and put the pieces back together

because the world is beginning to end
and is still waiting for a saviour
to rescue humanity
with the truth

because the angels are falling further into disgrace
and is asking for a second revelation
to be born from a prophet’s tongue
that is surreptitiously hidden in the earth’s womb

because I am running out of reasons
like the calendar is running out of days
because love is starting to ruin me into thinking
that today is the perfect time for another apocalypse

bittersweet song

2010-11-07T17:12:00.000-08:00

your smile reminds me of sunshine's aftertaste
from lazy mornings that I try so hard to define
in my journal and lightning was always my
favorite shade of the sky because everything seems
to fade into darkness in a split-second
(but just for a moment)
before a kaleidoscope of colors
start to reappear
in your eyes.

when we were both young,
we used to believe that stars
could make our wishes come true but,
like love,
all they ever taught us was
how to fall.

as the darkness haunts the night,
it's as if you braided the moonlight on my hair
so that even when you close your eyes,
you can still see my reflection.

while we wait for summer
to sing his lullaby
one last time,
we hold hands
and start to dance
inside our minds.

I guess you're still
a little boy with big dreams
and I'm still a little girl
with a broken heart.

you were already a part of me
even before you knew my name
and I was already yours
even before you memorized my face.

I hope someday,
both of us will learn how to fly
and touch the sky with our
bittersweet song.

it still hurts to remember

2010-11-07T15:42:00.000-08:00

ellipses... fill my notebook

as I try to think of words
to describe your eyes in
( parentheses )

I bury your memory
within
[ brackets ]
&&
semi-colons;

b-b-but you're not just
another clandestine metaphor
painted within the walls of
my paper canvas

and you're not just another boy
that will eventually fade
when Summer ends

because dear, we still got November
and autumn stars are our Novocaine
to break the
f
a
l
l

a thousand miles from here

2010-08-27T04:22:00.000-07:00

when i woke up monday morning, i was feeling a little hung-over from the other night so i decided to take a long walk to sort some things out from my mind. i rummaged through my closet and found your old polo shirt. i put it on and tied a loose belt around it. i grabbed a pair of faded chucks and hang it on my shoulders as I headed to the door, barefoot. as i went down the stairs, i noticed my parents had already left for work. i snatched an apple from the kitchen table and took a bite as I put on my shoes. i grabbed an aspirin from the cupboard and swallowed it. i flinched as i felt its bitter aftertaste on my tongue so i gulped down a glass of water. as i jogged outside, i hummed a tune from a movie i watched a few nights ago. i didn’t even remember what it was about. i probably fell asleep before it ended. while i was mulling over the forgotten film, i passed an old playground. i went inside and sat on an abandoned swing. i was staring into space for a few seconds rocking back and forth, back and forth. the tears fell down automatically. i didn’t even realize that i was crying until my vision got blurry. i wiped my eyes with the shirt i was wearing. your shirt. i managed a smile thinking about our memory. i suddenly remembered our first kiss. you were wearing the same shirt i’m wearing. we were riding a ferris wheel and it was like were on top of the world. everything was awkward but it felt right. it felt perfect. you are probably a thousand miles from where i am right now. i hope you are thinking of me, too. it’s been almost a year since your last letter. i guess it’s time for me to move on but i still miss you on days like this. i still love you.

and gray for everything else

2010-08-27T04:13:00.000-07:00

you rip the indigo sky into shreds with each razorblade-sharp teardrop that falls from your sunset-brown eyes as the horizon fades into an iridescent kaleidoscope of memories and washed out photographs from your reveries crash into the decaying earth, reminiscent of fugitive comets.

you cling on to the universe within your delicate fingers and each moonlight that drips from the heavens plays a poignant melody that narrates your very own fairytale.

god already wrote your destiny in the stars with a permanent purple marker and your fate was already decided even before you were born. you are special. you are beautiful. you are his beloved.

everyone knows your drunk rainbow expressions and I suppose holding on to life is your own damnation. you drown your desolation with sparkle soda and overdose on prescription pills every night so that you can forget your nightmares in the morning when you wake up.

you paint the walls with your own definition of reality, black for rainy day smiles and white for sunshine tears.

2010-05-28T05:00:00.000-07:00

remnants of september

Remnants of September flickered before my eyes- a distant memory that threats to haunt my sanity like a recurring nightmare. I still hear you in the wind, screaming my name and begging me to please stop.

You were like an angel, my beautiful blasphemy sent from above and I was constantly helpless by your bittersweet allure. I still remember the fire in your pupils when I ripped you to shreds. You were like a flower that bloomed only for me and I enjoyed your silent torment while I plucked your petals one by one.

We were friends but that was not enough. I wanted us to be closer. I wanted to know every inch of you and intimately memorize your face like a poignant love song.

I never wanted it to end like this and I hope you can see the guilt in my conscience, the fear in my soul and the shame in my heart.

I didn’t attend your burial but I sent you roses after the funeral.

I kissed your ghost hello as I pulled the trigger .

unhearted.

2010-04-30T18:14:00.000-07:00

unhearted.

Your memory always makes my heart smile. Remembering yesterday is like a far away dream that has finally been grasped by the tips of my fingers. You always haunt my mind like a phantom in the night calling out my name in the darkness.

Always keep in mind that I long to be with you.

I take a deep breath and sigh. Moonlit nights like this constantly remind me of you. I fiddle with the locket you gave me. Once upon a time, we were in love. I think we still are. I still count the days ‘till your return and sometimes I wonder if you still think of me, if our memory is even worth remembering.

I still read the unsent letters I wrote for you even if I already memorized each word, each paragraph, to heart. Each statement, I treasured and cherished. Darling, why is fate being difficult to both of us?

Your portrait I placed inside a frame filled with ancient carvings that only we both know what they mean hangs on the wall, even now. It was a sketch I made of you one summer. You were still a boy then and I was a foolish girl who fell in love with her best friend. I used to write you notes on delicate stationery scented with my favorite cologne with this old feather quill that once belonged to my grandmother. Pressed roses that I know you secretly picked from my her garden adorn my journal.

The last pages are blank—void of ink stains and filled with empty spaces where my heart once resided. Tears lace my broken eyes as I rip the sheets apart and as I play the piano with my soul on the keys, I sing to you one last song and I hope heaven isn’t that far away for the melody to reach your ears.

fin.

----> ♥ <----

dance with me

2010-03-22T18:00:00.000-07:00

There are times when dreams betray me when I close my eyes. They always fool me with their illusions and I am caught in between delusions and reality. I wish to go far far away and escape from all this madness so I shut my irises and wish for something to save me. The crumpled horizon doesn't make much sense anymore and I used to smile every time the sun shines but now I cry when it rains. I wish to be the song that you sing when the darkness gets too overwhelming for a chance to make everything alright. I yearn to be the truth hidden in the deepest corners of your mind.

And when I wake up, I can see you in the air I breathe and it makes me laugh for being too selfish and now I know that even if things go bad, they're not that bad because you are here to dance with me.

2009-10-28T17:53:00.000-07:00

the end.
by thursdays and rain
10.23.09

if heaven was just another catastrophe
then I'd gladly steal your heart again
and render you broken.

your cruel lips smile towards the moonlight,
a constant reminder of the truth
of who you really are.

the heartless look so beautiful in the twilight
like dead butterflies adorning the sky
and the silence plays a tune of
melancholic illusions and
dreams intertwined
in the horizon.

if heaven was just another one of my selfish nightmares
then I'd gladly destroy myself and
offer my soul to you.

unworthy i may be,
i still hope that to
be with you is
my destiny.

if heaven wasn't even real then
I'd believe in you still and as
long as you're here in my
lucid moments then
please promise me
infinity.

keep holding on to the stars
and chase rainbows with
me until they slowly
slip away from our
fingers.

and if this is heaven then this
is the end of words.