Imposter

If I were to fight with myself, I wouldn’t win—nor will I lose

My drivers have melted; oil dry

Colors don’t come to me anymore; it’s me who paints myself with them

Am I a clown?

I feel like faux

Why do I do this to myself?

I clothe myself with polyester, with artificial leather

Did I do this to myself?

Yellow is covered with blue—massive layers

Layers, layers, layers

I’m done

Now, what does this make of me?

A story with no plot

A song without a bridge

I don’t know what I want

   I don’t know what to do

      I don’t know

Maybe I need to scrape off the layers one by one

These are choices but they feel like death sentences

I promised I won’t regret, but could you spare me this bit?

I said I don’t regret, but in reality, it’s what I live in—thoughts

   It’s what I devour

They built up like cancer in my bones

The things I hate are what I’m made of

Little girl, please come out

Little girl, please save me

Burnout

It’s been a while since I’ve looked within myself
Words have been spoken—but it feels like a long time since I spoke to myself
I’ve existed and functioned thanks to my thoughts; now what happens when they disappear?
Has my brain melted?
Where have my letters gone?
They seem so far away; they speak to me yet I barely hear them

Where’s my muse? Locked up and bruised?
She wouldn’t come out of the box I put her in
She refuses to step out of the case where I housed her in
I think she’s had enough
I think I’ve had enough?

The problem is that I don’t yearn anymore
I don’t dream anymore
Love is a myth; a unicorn that doesn’t exist
What do I want? I’m clueless
I am thoughtless
When will they return? Will they return?

I thought it’s just time that’s changing—people, seasons, come and go
So why am I gone?
Am I mad?
I don’t know myself anymore
Who was I seven years ago?
Why have I gone missing?
They say you grow when you change, yet I feel myself shrinking

It’s not even about hopes and dreams anymore
It’s not about talent and money; no longer
Existing and trying

Why do we kill parts of ourselves for us to “prosper”?

Do we prosper or do we settle?
Do we settle or do we run?
Do we run or do we endure?

The pain doesn’t even hurt me anymore

panaginip

Scene1: Magkasama sa isang work activity. Community service? O college? Nasa isang bahay ng matanda tapos nag-iipon ng mga maliit na bagay, o nag-aayos? Parang volunteering work na pagso-sort out ng donations ang setting.

Ako, ikaw (na kaklase ko noong elem at highschool), at dalawa pa nating kaibigan (mga kaklase ko noong college). Magkakilala tayo at magkaibigan pero hindi tayo okay? Parang may history tayo ng hindi pagkakaunawaan na never na naayos; hinayaan nalang hawiin ng panahon pero sa totoo lang, sa loob loob natin, hindi natin mabitiwan.

Baka naging tayo dati. Baka may isa sa atin na nagkagusto sa isa na hindi maibalik nung isa. Baka pagkatapos n’on, awkward na. May tension lagi. Pero civil naman.

As usual, ako ‘yong pumipilit iparamdam sa madla na walang issue (kasi wala na, matagal na ‘yon). Kaya kung ano ang trato ko sa iba, ganun din trato ko sa ‘yo. Pero ikaw hindi. Ilag? Hindi. May halong galit? Baka. May times na pinagalitan mo pa ‘ko indirectly dahil ang bagal ko mag-ayos. Pero ang goal ko lang e wala na sanang awkward air sa paligid.

Kinakausap kita. Normal. Pag may nakakatawa, ineengganyo kitang tumawa. Nakikisama ka naman. Pero, alam mo ‘yon, ramdam kong may halong pilit.

Scene2: Naglalakad tayo sa sidewalk papunta sa susunod na location. Excited masyado ‘yong dalawa nating kasama kaya mas nauuna sila ng ilang hakbang. Ako naman, bilang nagmamadali sila kanina, hindi ko nailagay nang maayos sa bag ko ang lahat ng gamit ko. Kaya habang naglalakad, sinusubukan kong ayusin. May hawak na gamit ang dalawang kamay. Medyo taranta. Kinuha mo ‘yong hawak ko sa isang kamay para tumulong. Mukha na siguro akong ewan n’on kaya napilitan ka nang mangialam. Natawa ako. Sabi ko sayo salamat. Wala kang imik, pero nakataas ang isa mong kilay habang nakatingin sa inaayos ko. Oo na, magulo na. Judger.

Nginitian kita pagkaayos ng backpack sa likod ko, sabay tingin sa harap kasi hindi ka naman nakatingin sakin. Sabi ko ang layo na nila, hindi sila makapaghintay… para lang meron tayong pagusapan. Pero wala. Paghinga lang narinig ko sayo. Salamat ah? ‘Di bale. Masaya ang araw ko so far kaya hindi ko hahayaan ‘tong encounter natin na sirain mood ko. Kunwari nalang naglalakad ako nang mag-isa. Bahala ka dyan sa tabi.

Pero ewan ko. Ewan ko lang ah. Alam kong laging may tension sa ating dalawa, hindi ko naman kinakaila yon. Pero noong dapit-hapon na ‘yon, parang kakaiba na ‘yong nararamdaman ko. Parang naihalo sa kasiyahan ko ‘yong tension. Baka nalilito lang feelings ko? Pero kasi, ‘yong pakiramdam… magaan na may halong konting kaba. Kaba na hindi masama. Kaba na nagpapangiti.

Baka dala ng fulfillment sa ginagawa natin n’ong araw na yon. ‘Yon lang laman ng isip ko habang naglalakad. Muntik ko na malimutan na nandyan ka, kung hindi ka lang nanulak sa balikat at lumipat sa kaliwang side ko, katabi ng daanan ng mga kotse.

Disente ka parin pala kahit papano. Pero hindi ako nagpasalamat. Kasi inunahan ako ng kaba.

Tumigil tayo sa isang carinderia para mag-merienda. Nang-aasar tayong tinawag ng dalawa nating tropa. Siguro kung meron mang hindi pa nakapag-move on sa atin, sila yon. Sanay na ‘kong hindi sila pansinin. Pero first time ko yatang subukan tumingin sayo habang kinakantsawan nila tayo. Nakangiti ka? Bakit?

Scene3: Hindi ko na maalala kung ano ang in-order natin, pero matagal bago dumating. Pares ba? Basta lumabas muna ako at naglakad-lakad sa tabing-ilog sa tawid ng carinderia. Alam kong iniisip ko ang kasalukuyan kani-kanina lang, pero bakit biglang kung anong pwedeng maging tayo noon na ang laman ng utak ko? May pag-asa pa ba? Kakayanin pa ba?

Pwede pa ba?

Maya’t maya sumulpot si kaibigan#1 sa tabi ko na parang nababasa niya ang nasa isip ko. Nakangiti siyang nakatitig sa ‘kin. Hindi ko na maalala kung anong sinabi niya pero naalala kong nakaramdam ako ng ginhawa dahil don. Hayaan ko nalang dumaloy. Kung mangyari, mangyayari. Kung hindi, ayos lang din. Pakawalan na ang nakaraan, magsimula sa ngayon — yan na nasa isip ko habang naglalakad kami pagbalik ng carinderia.

Parang panibagong araw bigla n’ong nagkatinginan tayo. Wala nang bahid ng poot sa mga mata mo. Nakangiti kang nag-ayang umupo kasi kakain na. Tumabi ako sayo. Nagkwentuhan tayong apat habang hinihintay na lumamig ng konti ang sabaw. Nagtawanan.

Naging tayo ba dati? Pamilyar ang pakiramdam. Inakbayan mo ‘ko at hinayaan lang kita. Hinalikan mo ko sa noo habang nagtatawanan sila, at hinayaan lang kita. Tulad ng dati, pero iba. Bago. Kakaiba. Maaliwalas. Magaan na may halong kaba.

Nagising akong nakatulala. Hanggang ngayon iniisip pa rin kita.

notes

Why suffer in grief when you can seek happiness?

Happiness doesn’t come to one; one comes and finds it.

Shouldn’t we all live a life of happiness and joy?

If you know that you’re happiness is fading away, let go of everything and chase it.

Stop thinking about the idea of happiness; chase it.

Do not let happiness escape from your hold

I don’t care how long it takes me. I’m going somewhere beautiful.

If we can’t live happily, then what’s the point?

What’s the point of living if you can’t be happy?

I am on the course to find happiness until the day I die.

Look through you, within you, then look outside.

If you’re not seeing the rainbow outside your window, go out and look around, climb a tree, run to the fields. Go where happiness is.

burn

The first time’s tamed and messily translated
A feeling that could never be negated
You barge in my doors like you own my house
The first time’s a poem, the second’s a prose

My hands travel lines and bumps like they’re puppets
Hips sway to the beat of invisible music;
Dance with the ghost of memories
Pinching and prickling and playing pretend
Tips finding pearls underneath cold sand

Cat’s purrs vibrate from behind the ribs
Twists and turns and roll-overs, stilt
The wax melts as fire burns gold and blue
Blurs shadows; body of evidence disappears from the truth

You strike like a menace behind closed eyes
Populate my mind while you violate my rules
I punch and I fight but I don’t try to win
The control is nobody’s; not even yours to keep

Last to finish in this marathon of thieves
You think you stole my heart but its yours for the taking
In return, as you leave, I take your bow and arrow
My picture’s the target; a bull’s eye in the burrow

leap

The magic fades as years slip by. Ink splashes in barbed wires through pages as you try to reignite the sparkles in your fingers.

You don’t understand how the gas so easily emptied out when you turned silver. You couldn’t believe yourself to be all out of letters when you still have the energy to create words with them. It’s not supposed to be this way, you fight. It’s not supposed to leave you hanging alone on a pedestal in the middle of the sea. The shore’s too far away for you to swim to land.

“There’s no turning back,” you both promised. Now you can’t hear their voices in your head even as the night silences the Earth for you. The moon remains bright but you doubt if she shines for you tonight. The stars are twinkling but they are quiet when you ask them “Why?”, “Where?”.

Do poets shut their third eye when they sleep? Do they go about a second in their day with a peaceful mind and a tranquil heart?

You see them behind your eyelids but they don’t turn to acknowledge your presence. Even as you toss and turn and grumble, the party in your head keeps its fun without you. No, you can’t touch them; you can’t reach them. You gave them life yet you can’t keep it going. It’s hide and seek, the game you hated as a child but kept on trying to play, still. Now you play the same godforsaken game with yourself and realize that you’re good at it.

“Come out,” you call, refusing to step into the waters and drown just to seek.

Where else would they go? Where else would she hide? The sharks might devour you when you dive in. The moon might betray you into being swallowed by the darkness.

Scared, after all these years.

A dummy, after all the spilt ink on the floor.

The water’s warm under the hand that you hover. “Touch it, at least, and then you’ll find,” the shadows whisper, making you flinch and curl and cry. You’re yet to wet your skin but your lungs already drown in saltwater.

Wind blows and caresses your face in a comforting lullaby. You realize that the mights will never let you win this game if you allow them to taunt your night and day. If you allow them to tower over your muse. Innocent and full of love and peace and tranquility in herself. A tainted heart is poison to her. Tinted blood would save her.

You let the breeze guide your cold hand into the sea, its bed shimmering like crystals under the iridescent heavenly bodies, and you watch as the fire shards light up your fingertips like a dynamite; you feel them trickle through your veins and explode like fireworks in your chest. The black seabed suddenly gains color, memories of what it used to be appearing like a painting. They reflect on your eyes, making them shine like marbles.

The moon smiles as the red spreads to your nose and cheeks. The drumbeats are loud behind your ears and the wind dances with the endless symphony in your head. No, they’re not hiding; she’s not missing. You brace yourself and thank the stars for aligning before your eyes, and you jump.

Draft_94/96

I love you. Three simple words that meant the world to her. She felt that she would hurl her lungs out even before letting those words out of her mouth. They were heavy and raw and so real she’s somehow afraid to expose it to the light—like a little bird fresh from its hatched shell, delicate and featherless, vulnerable in its every breath. Would she accept that? Would she take it in her arms and clothe it with her hands, keep it warm and full? Would she reciprocate? Does she feel the same way?

Twenty-one.

She could ask, really, or inquire in a letter if syllables had hidden in her throat. Maybe seek the help of her friend so she would know if it’s safe to entrust her with her commitment. Her brother might be able to say something meaningful and practical about it too.

But as she thought of it, her mind wandered through and through until she falls in a pit of utter darkness. She had no idea of the complications of expressing those words. She never had a problem saying that to her family. She could easily say it to her best friend and all her other friends at random. But the thought of saying it to her, the person whose heart was the true home to what hers beats fast about, made her wish that she could just read her mind so she would know.

Ten.

Maybe then it would feel right to claim the seal. It would feel right for her to walk barefoot next to her and hold her hand tight while everyone watched. It would feel right to move around her—free and light, as what her heart wished to be. Because then she would know that every letter and action from her would come straight from the heart, rare and exclusive, out of care, out of love.

Hey…

How difficult could it be?

I love you.

When all of this is over…

Take me somewhere, to a place where people go, where people are
Take me to the beach, to the mall, the pub, to that crowded Chinese restaurant down South

Take me for a swim, a drive, a stroll under the moonlight
Take me to the park, hold my hand along the yellow-bricked road

Buy me ice cream from the vendor by the pavement, let
it melt on our fingers under the summer sky

Let’s go play outside, touch the earth with our bare hands,
cup our sunburnt cheeks from time to time

Cut a banana leaf for me — let’s use it as plates for our
lunch, shove fistfuls of rice in our mouths — scrumptious, savory

Take me in your arms and hug me tight and tighter until
our bodies melt, bury your face against my
shoulder, breathe in and say you won’t let go

Say you’ll wait with me, next to me…
Say you’ll still be with me when all of this is over.

12:48 AM

Feeling things I’m not even sure I should feel.

Do you think about be before you go to sleep?
Do you think about what to say to me on the daily?
Do you think about what I’m doing whenever I’m not around?
Do you bite your lips and curl your brows waiting for my text?
Do you think about calling me? Or seeing my face? Of hearing my voice?
Does you heart ache just thinking about how you cannot hold my hand?

Do you miss me?

Do you miss my air?

Do you miss our walks? The way I talk? I way I squeeze your hand?

The way I smile, laugh and stare, glare, crunch my nose, sniff, snort, move,
breathe?

summer

Headlights flicker through the windowpane
as cars pass by, revving into the break of dawn.

Indigo fills up the sky; building lights yellow and white.

Is this the start of a new day or of an old routine,
waking up for the same old movie,

for another bitter cup of coffee?

Maybe I’ll add a teaspoon of sugar to make it a bit sweeter,
to feel a little brighter? Hyper.

But what would I need it for? What would I use it for
if all I do is talk to the black box for eight hours,
and to the smaller black box for another six?

If the cats are bored then what of I?

The sky is white, the clouds are gray, and the day is old,
spinning and spinning and spinning under the sun’s fire,
the least I could do is look forward to the smell of rain.