Tag Archives: lost

Continuums

It’s a statistical impossibility multiplied

I knew the chances worked against me

But I went on ahead and paid the price

Never knowing how much it really cost me

.

You wrote unsent letters for someone else

The very same way I always do for you

Are we both just chasing phantoms, then?

Love, are we both craving nothing new?

.

The pain spreads violence in my thoughts

Saturating every lusted wakeful nightmare

You’re tearing me away, you never found out

That this world is more than willing to play unfair

.

But I guess it’s my fault, I handed you the bullets

That ran under my skin in these times of despair

When my vulnerabilities gouged holes in my system

Connect the dots all you want, but I’m beyond repair

.

The last time I said was the last time I’ll do this

But it lasted too long to last—this time, I mean it

You’re just too vague, oh, this is all just too simple

I let my veins die for the sake of an open answer

.

Now the impossible’s melting, but melting into red

I knocked back bland neurosis just to sedate my head

I knew this was coming for me, I know that you’ll never care

But why does it hurt even more when there’s no space left to be unaware?

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…and skyward, to come home.

save my

sensibility

the wrongness

of being right,

ludicrous—

mothballs taper

off to fixtures

on the wall;

your portraits

five. nine. nine.

not knowing

the date and place

but persisting to

hitch a hearse

for the winners

and you sleep

and you slept…

cheek to the gutters

like rainwater and

dry ice melting

but the puddles are

still far too cold

to be touched

with bare hands

.

your malevolence

my destiny

a love, chased

down with laudanum

and bitter spirits

starving for fire

not mine, no—

but angels won’t

exist just to see us

fall away and die,

and if i do so

let it be beside you

and these memories

of springtime

and soft sadness

discoloured fingernails

pointing to the sun

sending wishes

holding on tightly

never there?

never where—

not the awful thought

of losing you out

to another bore

.

when i’ve got

good stories to tell

and a bad heart

to prove innocent

hear me out, please

your music speaks

in earthquakes

and perfect fifths

though abstract

the ends may seem

myopic gaze

did you lose sight?

so save my sorry

humanity and

your flesh betwixt

mine again

for countdowns

don’t matter if

time doesn’t

make amends, when

you’ll be just fine

i know—but then

what am i?

what am i now?

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epochs

i’m overthinking

you’re my overthought

hope lost to the seasons

confused sympathy forgot

flavescent streetlights

doubt and paranoia

dimming like bad habits

can’t be more than nostalgia

left cold in the end with

a wicked iridescence

was it all just a mistake?

all falling out of better sense

.

i’m overthinking

you’re my overthought

i promised to escape

unlacing every tangled knot

and embers dying out to

shivering uncertainties

of a fugacious infatuation

your effervescent kiss

so let me be the patience

and the future violence—once

my mind falls with daybreak

resting with our unfazed dalliance.

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blizzards

it’s 3 a.m.

why does it

still hurt

everywhere

nowhere

now here—

months don’t

fade like

you do,

like your

blue so vivid

sweet oh sweet

oh no…oh.

why do i

do this when

i know it’ll

only deprive

me of oxygen

bruised skin

lost in your

aether, cold

forever

and ever

and ever

and never.

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Ornate Messes

Don’t react when I tell you
That bright lights mean
Nothing to you
Because no one would know
The sound of a ghost
And I might be something to you
Beyond beautiful…

~*~

aching fingers

and lavender sunsets

a collection of

scrambled letters

disguised as your name

.

dusty lines scribbled

on the back of a

twice-used post-it note

in this long stretch of

afternoon torpor—

.

creaky guitar strings

played out of tune

exhausted calluses

a step in the right key

still proudly smiling,

.

two hours of strange

dreams, and excitement

before awakening;

a walk into stunning

darkness, mere glimpses

.

of moonlit epistles,

coffee after midnight

existential wishes

shooting stars dragging

out hope and lost love,

.

rekindled aspirations

blooming into memory

a song finally taken

to heart, after years of

waiting for the right time.

~*~

My darling, never rest
Until the darker gets
The best of all we had
Can the cold carry on?

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amnesiac

11:15 PM, 04.12.19.

i remember

how you used to have

a place in my

memory

but i’m so forgetful

and the shades

are fading

away to a dull grey

like it’s a static

vacation

turned off to

a lost radio station

and you knew,

you knew…

didn’t you?

um, i can’t recall it

anymore—but

all i know is that

i’m fucked up

i fucked up

i fucked it all up.

and i ruined

everything

we had going on

in that warm

summer conversation

where you made

sense, and i

made amends

and the music wasn’t

bad and flat like

a can of unopened

lime soda—

now nothing will ever

be the same again.

i wonder

i wonder much.

i wandered too much.

my head hurts.

everything hurts now.

it’s weird,

but my thoughts

are so numb

and i’m starting to

forget again…

i’m sorry.

who are you?

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Awiting Buntala (Comet Songs)

Nakahiga sa kaparangan

At minamasdan ang buwan

Bumubulong ng tahimik

Nawala sa lumang panaginip

Kahit malamig ang ihip ng hangin

Sapat na ang bawat mahinay na tingin

Habang humaharana ang sandaigdig

At ako’y nalulugod sa pakikinig

Umaasa pa rin, sa isang balang araw

Na merong nakakabit na dito at ikaw

At ang bawat patak ng asul na gabi

Mahuhulog, matutulog sa ating tabi.

Lying on the meadows

And gazing at the moon

Whispering rather quietly

Lost in a vintage dream

Though the breeze blows cold

Each peaceful gaze is enough

While the universe serenades

And I am lulled while I listen

Still hoping for a someday soon

Connecting both here and you

As every drop of this cobalt midnight

Falls to repose between us two.

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27 – musings on gil puyat station

oh, she’s like this cardboard city, with the subtle way she’s barely holding herself together.

she’s an anachronism, of late-night guilt and freshly-brewed coffee; no sugar, no cream, barely sipped. she intertwines her deepest confessions inside my vulnerable chest cavity and suddenly constricts without warning, completely sucking me dry of resentful consciences and clever second thoughts.

though i talk with corroded shackles beneath my tongue, i care not for the sharp tang of rust. while she solemnly weeps for fictional infinities on the other side of the country, i impatiently await that impending reply as i absently gaze outside the window of a clattering train, basking at this city, built upon centuries of dusty grey smog and busy promises—of fragile bodies barely touching, barely stopping to breathe, barely existing.

she has an irrational need, that insensible girl, to save what can no longer be saved, to control what is far beyond her means, to create as it destroys her. the pleading words on the dull glow of my screen are a tangible whisper, tasting of colliding tears and bitter shame. “i want to help you, like they always did for me, but—i fear…i fear i cannot.”

can you not, indeed? my ulterior rejection is swift and bordering on impolite; but i still listen, and descry for mutual understanding. for though i shall never admit it out loud, your blithe persistence undoubtedly plagues me; to the very throes of my lavender dreams—resting beneath the stars as i turn my back upon that flimsy conversation and that paper metropolis, and allow myself to think clearly again.

to her, i am the eternal glue that holds her together. to me, i am the stranger who mercilessly ripped her apart in an attempt to reconstruct her to my own selfish beliefs.

who is right? what is the relative concept; of wrongness, of forgiveness, of sudden change and reconciliation, of the flismy trust that you broke, and the tested faith that broke you?

and who am i to tell?

the verdant landscape of laguna finally greets my wandering eyes and thankfully pulls me away from the echoing cries of that city, that poster past of a coalescing city that fills up my thoughts with a charcoal haze and renders everything else an unfamiliar slate of grey. my sighs are comforting once again, and she no longer appears to be just another one of the million impostors i came across today.

she means well. she meant well.

though—call it nihilism if you may—at the very least, she should be tolerable to her qualms and fear not the fortunate reality of losing me; arms unfolding, heart reaching, mind forgetting.

and fade away, i will. a plastic boy like me has no place in a cardboard world like this.

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23 – a lukewarm 4 a.m. shower (isn’t as bad as it sounds)

i hope i can wash it all out.

.

all the exhaustion and instability

the throat i screamed ragged

and my eyes drowning in red water

.

the hellish nightmares creeping into

the darkness when i forgot to turn on the light

.

when i was too tired to stand up

and make a better mess of myself

because no one else could do that for me

.

not the phone calls i’m avoiding

not the close friends i barely know anymore

not the faceless comfort typing on their

tiny glowing screens always telling me

.

i’ll be fucking alright, because i won’t

.

be there for them. instead, i’ll be sitting

in the middle of a cold-tiled floor, still trying

to wake myself up enough to breathe.

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Cloud District

Soft thrums of raindrops

Against scarlet canvas

Crushed flower petals

Bleeding out pink on

Oceans of grey puddles

Pooling on the asphalt.

.

Shorter days, lonelier nights

Blue shoes over fresh graves

Cracks on the warm concrete,

Forgotten in the solstice midst

And a song stuck between silence

Of a boy lost under his umbrella.

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