Tag Archives: monring

Febfair {Diliman}

PicsArt_02-18-09.12.53

I woke up this morning

with blisters on my tired arms

and wilted grass blades and mud stains

stuck all over my filthy trousers

my throat dry, red eyes throbbing,

a giant pandemonium of a headache

swelling triumphantly in my brain

so I staggered to the bathroom

where the mirror replayed memories

of us screaming elatedly on dizzying rides,

walking about blinded by neon lights,

picking out cheap food from every

stall that we chanced to pass by,

taking blurry photographs with the widest

grins plastered on our sweaty faces,

telling cheeky stories against the noise

of both rock concerts and chattering crowds,

and secretly stalking our smitten friend

around like a bunch of nosy, giggling idiots—

and finally half-drunkenly weaving across

dark street ends after midnight (though we didn’t

have a single drop of alcohol in our systems)

stars barely visible, shoulders interlocked

the whole way back, middle fingers up

to your late night curfew, and we hugged it

out goodbye, silently wishing under our breaths

that the other one wouldn’t leave just yet…

jolted back to the present, I stared at my

trainwreck of a face and decorated party tattoos

and decided, with a wistful smile,

that I have never felt this good.

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