UmPing :’)

In my delusion to become the most important part of your life, I lose it.

In my search for a space I can claim mine, I lose it.

In my need to feel cherished and wanted, I lose it.

I am a loser, whatever I do.

I can’t keep on blaming you for my hurt, because I allow it.

I can’t keep on expecting more than what you are capable of giving.

I can’t keep on tracing where you’ve been, where you’re at, what you’re doing.. it drains us both.

I can’t ask… I can’t cry… I can’t confess…

to the very man I most trusted.

Why can’t I be a weakling sometimes? This is when I need you.

But it seems to me, there’s no way I can fall apart…

because I only have myself to pull it back together…

Maybe I am being insensitive… naive… pathetic brat.

Maybe it seem to you I am asking for waaaaaay toooo muuuucch.

Maybe you are tired of me.

Sorry if I can’t help… I add to your grief.

Sorry if I can’t be perfect, not complaining…..just waiting.

Sorry if I lash out and say crazy things..

Sorry if I am hurting you.

But I still can’t understand…

Where are we now? Where am I?

For most of the time in this relationship…

I’m an outsider looking, peeking at the inside.

Most of the time, I don’t belong.

I’m jealous, I admit.

And I hate myself for being such…

Where have all my self respect gone? I don’t know.

I shouldn’t be nagging and trying to fit in.

When it’s obvious, I should give way.

I love you… that I forget I don’t own you.

But please, find it in your heart to not treat me this way.

One more…one last, my heart might just give up.

Please understand my worries, what we’ve been through still haunts me.

I still don’t trust myself to have the power to keep you…

You always keep on slipping away………..

And it’s what is killing me…

if you can ignore me this way… everytime you see fit..

what more is there for me to be positive about?

I know you won’t agree with what I say…

but please, help me understand my place in your life..

put me there… and trust me.

I’m failing at my part..because you are doubting me…always.

If you just open up… I wouldn’t end up in this gray area forming ideas that both can hurt us.

I can’t see myself without you…

please let’s work this out?

if that’s too much for you to bear…

then i stop.

Of Pen and Pain: Confessions.

A scratching sound can be heard from the bedroom door. It seems, this is the aftermath already.

Puffy eyed, I pull out my notebook from the drawer and twist a pen in my hands…here I go again.

Writing is a commonplace of the hurting. To write a word or two, the writer must have felt that prick of emotion. There is always something in being under the mercy of pain that prompts one to sealing the experience in ink. To mark the hurt in words. To compile the story in pages of tear-blotched paper. Naturally the first thing we, sensible people, ought to do is to unload whatever it is that is pulling us down, holding us back. Be it personal issues, workplace dilemmas, society failings in general. The bounds of our tolerance to mundane riffs and ruffs of life can only go that far. Most of the time, as it is to me, we are consumed by pain. Physical, emotional, spiritual pains. We can’t run or hide from it.

And I, for one, have managed to discover a distraction in writing. Somehow the force I exert in manipulating the pen to form the words or in clicking the keys to pour my thoughts, becomes a therapy of some sort. I know that pages and pages of melancholic entries makes no sense to anyone but myself. But I still do it. And I won’t stop doing it. Because it’s rare to find a living soul who can tolerate my weirdness, my art, my true self. So I write. It is the most unbiased platform I’ve found. It won’t judge the author, it won’t condemn the characters. It won’t laugh at my face. It can’t walk away disgusted.

I’m never good at confrontations, verbal ones. Almost always, I ended up the one sobbing because I just can’t manage to say what I want to say. So I absorb all that are thrown at me, not being able to counter or defend my stand. That’s how I see it. I’m the underdog in face-to-face battle. When God blessed mankind with guts, I was under the sheet, snoozing. No wonder, I fell in love with this art. Here, I can be brave, I can say my heart’s contents, I can take a firm stand.

I write when I’m in pain. Like I’m doing now…. and I’ve written  considerable amount of this stuff.

That says a lot about how happy a person I am…doesn’t it?

Brain Farts, Heart Chokes: Cryptic Overload.

The fluttering of butterflies inside my stomach died. All I can feel right now is the hollow space somewhere in my chest. Somehow, it seem so empty but heavy.

Here I am again, turning to you. I feel that only you can see the sad eyes in my smiling face. Only you can hear the sobbing in my laughter. Only you knows the fragile dents and bruises inside my system. And you don’t mind. You don’t mind if I’m weak and show it. You don’t mind if my crying and venting out of frustrations about myself, my life, my existence, my worth, is all that I came here for. You don’t mind if I take most of your time. You listen. You patiently understand the way I am. You never asked me to hold back my tears. You never asked me to wait on the sidelines when I desperately need to be comforted. At least here, with you, I am important. I am accepted. I am first.

Am I being selfish?

Whenever I wanted the attention you are giving me from someone, that’s how it felt… I am nothing but a selfish crap. Why is that? And why am I like this? Why am I acting like a desperate soul? I don’t want to be like the person I am at all. I hate clinging to other people. I hate depending on them. But why this? Should I change and be tough and compromise what I feel? Should I start tearing out the pages of my idealism and at last open my eyes to reality? What is reality? That life is unfair? That love is overrated? That happy endings ain’t at all real? But I don’t wanna give this up. I don’t have the strength. It was painful before. And I have a feeling the pain is deadly if it happened again. I may look all patched up and healed, but I can tell I’m not. I am at this point of healing where I am still needing medications…namely assurance, time, attention. I need these things so bad. I can’t take it when I have to be left waiting while there’s an ample amount of time shared with somebody else but me. I am hurt whenever I think of that. What am I here for anyway? If life can go on without my help, then why say I’m needed in the first place? Why keep secrets. Why hide something. Big things start out small… Paranoid or not, that was wrong. Like I was slapped ten times over with a placard saying “I.D.C. about you.”  Or maybe I don’t have the right to complain about it in the first place. I’m being too nosy. I’m meddling with things when I’m not supposed to.

My impulse is giving me a really hard time. I’m being destructive… to myself, to others. Who would love me and actually stand by me if I’m a rotten-sensitive-selfish-egotistical-insecure-freak?

Sometimes I can’t help but be jealous of other people. They are not like me. They don’t have to go through this emotional limbo. They don’t have to look at themselves in the mirror everyday and see a failure. They don’t have to endure the coldness of being ignored…of being overlooked. They don’t have to run to a keyboard and comfort themselves by clicking the keys and imagining it to be the outlet of a tightly kept depression. It’s exhausting to be in this side of life. Where I have to continually weigh and measure. To endlessly draft plans and toss it off after some time. Because in this world I’m in, nothing is ever consistent. I watch the world fail me, and I watch  myself fail the rest.

Thank you for being here..wordpress.

Ms. Blues Wears Red Shoes: I’m Writing Gibberish.

‘Bye summer.Thunder roars outside and lightning strikes so fierce… I’m scared of storms.

When I was younger, I have Mama and Papa to run to when the heavens are upset… but today, I have no one but myself. It’s tempting to grab my phone and dial… talk to anyone. But I turned it off. The last time I remember trying to start a conversation in this mood, I was cut off. I guess, my blues aren’t just for sharing. (But i’m sharing it now..hahah). Well, writing has always been my refuge when no one listens and no one understands…the crap that I am. So I crawled into my bed, hugged my pillow, and calmed myself. Sounds like a freak? Yeah.

I’m so alone.

I hate writing sad entries… but too bad, the writer in me only awakens in the tugging of loneliness. How odd. How apt. How “zai”. Ugh.

Now I don’t know what to say anymore… I am randomly clicking on these keys and not making any sense. Exactly! I feel so NOT sensible. Why is that?

Maybe because I wanna say something but I’m not allowed making ‘drama’ and started crying? Maybe because I wanna say nice things but I can’t handle receiving the cold shoulder in return when I did? Maybe because I wanna stand up for something I fiercely believes in but I can’t afford ‘ruining’ the day? Am I born to wait? Am I born to be on the sidelines…always? Huh. I don’t understand why I let people* do this to me.

I understand the world can go on without me interfering. What I’m troubled about is that I seem to stop when the world is ‘busy’ and I’m feeling like, as it’s occupied fixing itself in place on the orbit, I’m a cast out. An outsider of sort.

I thought we had a deal ‘Earth’?

But I guess I’ve no right or whatsoever to demand, right? I’m just…well, me.

Specially, it’s JUST me.

 

AizSch: So Young

‘Cause we were so young then
We are so young, so young now
And when tomorrow comes
We’ll just do it all again

—So Young, The Corrs

Good old days makes me smile. This is me and Rosch when we were just toddlers and unaware of each other’s existence. We would sometimes talk about how amazing the workings of God are, one of them is how He designs each person’s life. We are both in awe thinking how events and circumstances have led us to each other. One altered decision, one altered step, we might have ended up not knowing that “AizSch” is possible. We could be with someone else now, who knows. Destiny may sound old and cheesy, but that’s how it appears to be. God is the author, and He is writing our story.

<3

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Re-Post, Re-Read: Leafing Through My Old Blog. :)

Writing is my life. I’m not a professional writer… but I’m passionate about it. And as I sit here trying to ignore the wave of heat outside, I leaf through my old blog. I can’t compose poems these past few weeks. Maybe because I’m not sad? Coz my poetry, it seems, are all written in blue salty ink.

Here are few of my past posts that were read and commented by my fellow ‘poets’. I’m actually thrilled to realize I’ve written many entries already.

http://www.everypoet.net/poetry/blogs/fallen_butterfly.

This first one I wrote for Mama.

Beneath My Wings

It must have been cold there,
staying at the brink of my shadow,
urging me to move forward…forward,
to push through the limits of my mind.

It must have been lonely there,
sitting at the corner, out of many peoples eyes,
so you could watch me intently as I dare dive
the wide sky you weaved for me.

It must have been silent there,
as your heart solemnly speaks with mine,
your faith keeps me strong,
your assurance keeps me whole.

It must have been weary there,
as you toil your way to build me a home,
a kind of place where I can nestle,
and nurture my dreams, one by one.

It must have been sad there,
as you witness how I stretch my wings,
testing the strength, braving the wind,
and finally, setting off to fly… on my own.

It must have been everything there,
weathered hands that cultivates me,
and a gentle loving gaze…
It must have been hard, Mom.

Thank You.

 My homesickness draft.

I Wanna Go Home

Just another ordinary day,
sitting in the train
a journey never ending,
plans are pending.

An anonymous face
amongst the bustling crowds,
amidst the city noise,
it’s so lonely here…

Thousands of people,
yet, I have no one to talk to.
Not even a smile, a tap on my back…
small things to keep me sane.

It’s just another day,
away from where I’m rooted.
My hands long to touch the familiarity
of my long abandoned nest.

I walk fast paced…
venturing the path, old path everyday.
It’s tough sometimes to direct my feet,
when it always want to go home.

Bounded in the train of life,
I keep going..going away.
I wanna run back, I’m afraid
I’m overlooking too much by looking ahead.

My ‘in love’ mode.

Goodnight, Love

I closed my eyes last night
catching a glimpse of your face,
illuminated with the faint moonlight,
as you pass by my thoughts…

Caught the deep mystery in your eyes,
the one which I fell into.
Those marvels I’d be glad
to look at forever…

Heard the faint sound of your voice,
soothing my heart…
And somehow, I felt you.
You are with me though miles apart.

Then I smiled…
for I know I couldn’t ask for anything more.
A kind of satisfying fulfillment,
simply because you love me.

And I love you as much.
What a beauty, this mutuality.
Seemingly a tale…
told in present reality.

I closed my eyes,
and I held you close.
In my heart, this will always be true,
I’ll be sleeping,and waking, still in love with you.

Goodnight, love.

My reflection for a dear friend.

Silence Came

Silence came…
a stifle cry from inside
trying not to burst
into a wail of agony…

Silence came…
a cold rush of blood
the beat…the warmth,
all gone.

Silence came…
and to her, the world cease to evolve.
at that crucial point,
her fate tilted its axis.

Silence came…
fear overwhelmed her being,
doubts, confusion, mistrust.
Asking of all people, why her?.

Silence came…
and one by one, her dreams faded
into the smokey stillness
of this never minding world.

Silence came…
solitude eats her…she’s all consumed.
In her mind, she’s wasted.
In her heart, she’s numb.

Silence came…
she watched in pain
how her newly found path to joy
have collapsed in disarray.

Silence came…
touching her womb…
there would’ve been her child…
her own flesh.

Silence came…
she’s torn…
a young distressed soul
left with no choice.

Silence came…
and there she was,
asking…thinking…
“when silence dies, can love speak again?”

 Inspired:)

Four Little Things

how distant is the moon
from the eyes that seeks its light?
not an inch far, i say,
not an inch away…

for every deep longing
creates a path…
the world would conspire
to take the heart where it belongs…

every step…every sigh
destiny drives souls closer…
closer..closer..closer even more
till they walk side by side…and breath as one.

it’s not magic…
neither it’s a miracle..
it’s love.
just love.

Before 3

I Love You Too

There’s time for everything.
And maybe, now is mine.

I have been wandering around the corners since that day you suddenly left.
Trying to trace the paths, trying to revive the short lived tale.
Trying to find reasons…reasons I’m secretly afraid of to hear.

I’ve cried. For many nights, i lie awake, mingling with the pain that cuts me in pieces.
I’ve befriended darkness, so i can hide into it’s embrace.
So i can just pretend i am not hurt at all.

But I’m not a good liar.

Everytime i face the mirror, i keep on asking what went wrong.
I kept on thinking about you.
The way you have lured me to fall.
The way i comply.
The way i put down my defenses just to get close.

It’s not easy just letting you go.

While i dwell in a wreckage for a home, you remain my center.
While i go on mending myself, you remain my strength.
While i eagerly look forward, you remain my direction.

You didn’t just taught me how to love you.
You taught me to love you as i love life itself.

And now, you’re back.
And i am home.

It’s crazy that i still feel the same.
I know not the reason why my heart longs for you.
All i know is that you are my happiness.

It was never your intention to cause me pain, now i know that.

It amaze me how my prayers were answered.
It amaze me how God lead us back where we part ways before.
It amaze me how much i missed you, after all these time.

There’s just so much that i wanted to say.
But words just can’t sound like what my heart is trying to tell you.

You said you love me.

My arms are open to embrace you back.

I love you too.

Self-defined.

I Am Me

i am me.
a perfectly imperfect art.
molded. yielded.
to be someone you wished me to be.i am me.
an abstract loosely sketched.
an attempt to portray beauty
before your eyes of scrutiny.i am me.
a soul in nudity.
each fiber of my flesh is sold
into your hunger so greedy and bold.i am me.
sealed in canvass for you to behold
hang me in your living room wall
and feast in glory,you all!i am me.
a mimic of your other self,
the one reflected in the mirror
but you are most afraid to look closer.

I Appreciate You.

My simple token for a guy who means so much… <3 

I hope I can show it EVERYDAY.

Patented :)

WE ARE LEGAL ®

REMJEL

Where you at?

In my head, I keep on asking what happened…why it happened. Up until now, my mind rejects the truth.
Will you read this? I trust you with my thoughts…
I was trying to write something about you…something about us, our friendship. But every now and then, I would prove myself a coward and stop typing… because the memories would flood my head and I’m overwhelmed with a sense of loss.

Maybe, you’ll be laughing when you read this… do they have internet there? I can see you shaking your head wearing that mocking smile. “Pare, ang drama mo na naman.”, you’d say. You disapprove of me being sad don’t you? And you know what? I miss it when you cheer me up, I miss it when you listen and make lighthearted mockery at my ‘problems’. You know your way with me. You just know how to be a friend when I need one.

One Sunday, you gave me the shock of the year…and the year has just started! Without warnings, you left.

Maybe that’s why you treated me to dinner last Christmas? Maybe that’s why you hang out with me even if it was raining and you’ve got something else to do? Was that your goodbye?

If only I knew…

I would’ve thanked you not just for the dinner but for the times you’ve spared some moments for me. I would’ve thanked you for being always there when I need someone to talk to. I would’ve thanked you for being my ‘Pare Ko’.
I would’ve thanked you for everything that you’ve made me realize. I would’ve thanked you for all the laughter, the good times. I would’ve thanked you for being my good friend.

Thank you for everything.

And I’m sorry.

I’m sorry for I know I seldom text you. I’m sorry I can’t always talk to you. I’m sorry I have spilled all my bitterness on your ever patient cup. I’m sorry I haven’t told you all this when I still can.

I will always remember you, Pare. I will always be proud to have had you as a friend. I will always cherish all the things we shared.. things that only the two of us can understand. I will always rekindle the times we spent talking, texting, and fooling around each other. You knew me the way no one does. You knew how my heart’s circuit works. You knew me as me.

Remember the last bitter drop I made you absorb past December? It’s okay now. We’ve mended it. I wish I was able to tell you. I am happy now, Pare. You have nothing to worry about me being ‘emo’ all my life.

Wherever you are right now, I am terribly missing you. Please take good care, okay? I know you’ll be on your way to a happy place and I’m comforted with that thought.

Though you’re gone where I can’t see you, I know you’ll be watching over me. Won’t you?

You are now my angel. I bet you look good under that halo.

And….can you spoil me one last time?

…embrace me with your wings…let me know you’re laughing at me…saying, ‘Batukan kita pare eh..’.

Till next time…see you there.

LSS: Head Over Feet

 

Keeps on repeating this, 3days in a row!!!

Maybe it’s the melody.

Maybe it’s the lyrics.

Maybe it’s Alanis.

Maybe I’d want to find someone to sing this song for.

Maybe it’s one of them moments when a song  just  speaks for me.