Tag Archives: universe

caffè e latte

there’s a galaxy

in my coffee

and it’s making it

taste funny

maybe if i stir a

bit and cool it down

then it will taste

more sugary

.

there’s a galaxy

in my coffee

i take mine rather

black, usually

but i might just

go on ahead and

give it a chance to see

if i like it milky.

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intercosmic

if you’re simply

too out there

like outer space

then i’m the

only cosmonaut

that dares to fly off

in a rocket and

remove my helmet

.

to take a deep

breath of your void

tastes of stardust

to make my lungs spin

maybe my head will

pop like a comet

or maybe you would be

my discovered planet.

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Asteroseismology

I see no stars in the sky anymore, darling

That’s because they’ve all fallen to the ground now

And lodged their nebulous shards in between

Those tiny beating hearts and empty restless souls

And names and cities and sidewalks no one will ever know

And these stars are long damaged with love

But they look just as exquisitely pretty as when they

Were once strung up in that infinite tapestry

We call the universe—the same universe where

I wonder why I’m still so caught up in you and I

When we’re only stripped-down parts of a woeful quintillion

An unknown number with hydrogen in our breaths

And I want enough pieces for a constellation, darling

Just like you and them and us and the rest of this galaxy

Will you have slowly mended everything together for me

Or are you just another faded light I will soon have to bury?

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Æther

I’ll swim through the milky way

Where no one shall dare to find me

Past countless stars and infinities

Into the unknown mirrors of reality

.

Check in on the me that’s doing better

Find the fold and unravel underwater

Peering into a new parallel possibility

Where I’m not drowned in my misery

.

I’ll change my look and taste the colours

Hold my frozen lungs right into the aether

Push my old self away and then kill another

Just to take the place of a familiar stranger

.

And maybe then, I could find new ways

To lose reckless gravity and float to space

They wouldn’t notice the exact same face

Won’t miss the past me that I just replaced

.

In that strange dimension, I’ll live on

With the other fake ones, a different version

I’m starting over in greener pastures

My mistakes abandoned in a forgotten world

.

Until another me swims the milky way

In hapless search of a newer reality

Perhaps I might also be the unlucky one

This time around, I’ll also be chosen.

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darkrooms and diadems

daybreak

heartaches

lukewarm

rainfall

.

silhouettes

playing in

the corner

of a bad call

.

starlight

and ashes

woven into

a blonde king

.

hopeful yet

thoughtful

no mercy for

the dying

.

we’ll fly but

i’ll collide

with nothing

but comets

.

galaxies hush

still at your

voice, another

skyline death

.

mindless

so clever, yet

barely out

of my reach

.

no need for

your gold when

you’re the one

that i need.

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Dying on the Dashboard

I could only gaze in quiet longing as he crushed the cosmos beneath careful fingers, blushing blossoms reduced to nothing but bleeding pink petals; counting off to another inevitable “loves me not.”

Eyes of dusky skylines. Auburn locks, autumn leaves, idyllic motions. Quivering lips so reddishly fragile, I’m left to wonder if I even dare to bruise them.

I could never hurt you. Would you do the same?

His lithe body gently shifted closer to me, finally closing that small space between us that somehow still felt like millions of miles away to me. Though I am comforted by the steady escaping warmth of our dalliance, the tasteless, tangible absence of his unfazed thoughts left something rather hollow—still left to be selfishly desired.

Tell me, why do you ache?

A pause. An overcast sigh. Wilted cosmos falling from cold palms; bitter, bitter.

“How does someone become a ghost, or a shadow with a smoke ring halo?”

But…I don’t understand. I’m still here, aren’t I?

Aren’t I?

Gold showers of stardust softly rained from above and pirouetted with the tempestuous wind, touching pallid skin, resting on his closed eyelids, and for a moment, he was a perfect constellation—stippled freckles connecting astral whispers connecting interlocked limbs; entangled, unraveled.

“Though I can’t accept the truth, you’re so far away…”

Yet, his lamenting epistle’s final encore—so exquisitely catastrophic—it immediately shattered that ephemeral illusion and left abject phantoms in my nascent chest, constantly haunting me, cruelly suffocating my lungs, callously stealing oxygen and snatching oxytocin; away from me, from you, from us.

“Who am I to ever wake up again, if you’re gone?”

Sunlight falters and fades on the peeling dashboard, scratched with illegible marks and wistfully dressed with our eternal scars. His chagrined eyes—so deeply painted with the darkest shades of midnight—it swallowed up the moon and the stars and the galaxies whole, leaving nothing but lost questions and black holes. My whole world turns into a stunning aurora of roseate silver and palest peach and without meaning to, I accidentally blink.

“I’ll never be the same.”

When I hazily opened my reckless eyes again, he was no longer there.

Were you ever even there?

His lilting dissonant voice still reverberates, through time and space and infinities. But mine forsakes me. Echoes, shadows, sorrows—a scream.

“Let go!”

Now you’re gone…

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Lights Off

Saturday, 8:41 PM. Earth hour. Los Baños becomes nothing but a phantom silhouette—a haunting afterimage trapped in a glass universe, a distant cosmic echo; reduced to faint outlines fading out into darkness. Humans taper off into pale wandering ghosts.

The stars are in full bloom tonight.

It’s easier to get lost in the incarcerating qualms of one’s infinitesimal existence. Without violent neon glows and blinding horizons to distract from the infinite oceans of nothingness, one is left to float among elusive shadows and falling atmospheres; still quietly wondering.

Surely enough, it’s only an hour of vespertine vigil, barely a notch in time; before the lights flicker back on, and reality takes its steady hold on this hazy daydream once more.

But for now, this pure nothingness—frigid breeze coalescing with transient eventide,

It’s beautiful.

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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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Silvern

It’s alright if I’m all alone, because listening to your heart softly embraces me in pastel lullabies;

While I’ll be here, waiting for cold cosmos to lead wandering footsteps back home…is it home?

Or is it just another half-faded daydream, and I will never truly be able to sink into your ribs?

The universe is ours, my melancholy darling. Yours and mine. Don’t blink your ocean eyes and forget.

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nocturnes, numbers, nyctophilia

It meant nothing to him any longer, only a faint tinge of sadness—and somewhere within him, a drop of pain moving briefly and vanishing, like a raindrop on the glass of a window, its course in the shape of a question mark. ~Atlas Shrugged, Ayn Rand

~*~

i.) the jealous penmanship

clever words left tears forming in my brain

ones that i have to open up my healing bruises

just so i could let them out somewhere

somewhere my veins wouldn’t be affected severely

(it was late at night, and my stars called out from nowhere)

sensations poured out from every letter and departure,

as it entangled itself with my nerves and wore them down,

and wore them like a dirty dress, and wore them out to town

until they were worn-out; nothing but a few stray threads.

i burned half of my journals when i turned 16 and stopped trying

to imitate being an author, because writing for me isn’t an expectation–

it’s nothing but another puzzling lock without a skeleton key

and because the most delicate daydream wasn’t mine

because selfishness, to me, is not just another bland adjective

because my bones screamed with the weight of a black hole

because your reveries were enchanting. and mine were f a d e d

n o , i ‘ l l  n e v e r  b e  a s  g o o d  a s  y o u

~*~

ii.) softness, like his heart in the shape of a newborn galaxy

i faded into an ugly shade of something that’s neither monochrome nor coloured;

on the verge of collapsing onto the other side of the fence, threatening madly

but never quite having the contemplation to choose a losing side

as i fell down into the blue of a stranger’s wanderlust eyes.

someone else had taken most of that vibrant shade already, but i managed

to steal away just a sliver, a glimpse, an infinitesimal shiver

and it was the kind of lasting cold that froze summer hurricanes

and kept my breaths visibly foggy and crisply sharp with every inhale

(you never warned me. you don’t know me, but you knew me too well. and i never listen.)

i’ll always be an insignificant detail in the cyan tapestry you painted for yourself

and i’ve accepted that long ago when i said i loved you in my nightmares,

tossing and turning on the bed covered in plastic arrogance because

no other blanket felt warm and comfortable enough for my body to sleep on

until then, i could only sink deeper into the fathomless wish that this universe would end s o o n

i t  w a s  a  k i n d  o f  l o v e  t h a t  m a d e  s u i c i d e  s o u n d  l i k e  m u s i c

~*~

iii.) an abrupt goodbye/the guilty party often disappears first

i was mad at something. i didn’t know what it was, but it was foolish enough

for me to take it out onto the embracing autumn sky, on the taciturn smiles that

were supposed to hold me when tempestuous desolation grabbed at my twisted throat…

and on you. you never meant anything. you just wanted to talk, and so did i,

but my tongue was a spilling box of blades, and every time i opened my

wounded mouth to make you laugh, i always ended up cutting you by accident instead.

(friend, even if i said i’m sorry, can you ever forgive me for what i’ve done to you?)

it was an unreasonable apology, and i erased myself because of my own self-hatred,

but not before leaving footprints of a migraine in your head, which you will inadvertently step on,

slip at, and hurt yourself…fuck. i don’t know why i’m like this. i don’t know why i have

to push and pull apart the only semblance of logic in my life, the only anchor

that keeps me from towing away from the tides, the last person that still feels real to me

when everything else has blurred into an amalgamated indistinct static background;

i don’t know why i feel so smothered, when you’re the only attention i’ll ever have and need.

at this point, the only thing we have is each other’s problems, and the way we both

jeered at it, taunted it, and blocked it out with our own shared playlists until we felt better—

but now that summer was just a distant memory, and so was the scarlet artwork we made of it.

you also needed comfort. but did even try? no. i ran away from the colliding wreckage

as if it wasn’t my fault, and i numbed myself out because i couldn’t do the same for y o u

i ‘ m  s o r r y  i  m a d e  y o u  s a y  s o r r y  s o  m u c h . . .

i  d i d n ‘ t  m e a n  t o  d e s t r o y  e v e r y t h i n g

~*~

iv.) the midnight closes. the violent curtain falls.

the cold glow of my computer screen was rude and restless

and it made my fingers promise, crossed and uncrossed, that i would

stay with it until it slips into comatose. i have rinsed my mouth with lukewarm water

a hundred times to try to wash out the taste of stale coffee, but it never came out and now

i’m stuck with it until morning, until another astrological moon cycle, until i lose

myself in the chemical moments of something that’s so artificially natural.

i’m constantly starving myself, stuck between confidence and relapsing withdrawals of

my past life that i thought i discarded when i finally held on to my shooting star,

but it was always tethered tightly to me by a crimson string. and it always probably will be.

i’m alone. i’m friends with people that talk shit to me in the mirror, and when i bite

my chapped lips and draw blood by accident, it almost feels like atonement. almost.

(i got what i came for and i can’t try again. this is what i want…..isn’t it?)

i know that there are people out there making fun of me and rolling their eyes

petulantly as they bask in the trite, whimsical “perfection” of their storybook existence

but not everything has a happy ending, and not every sad story has to end badly.

i don’t know. i’ll never know. i’m tired and i have responsibilities that i’m not

built for, and every crack turns into a break, and a break into shattered p i e c e s

t o m o r r o w  i ‘ l l  d o  t h i s  o v e r  a g a i n  .  u n t i l  i  r u n  o u t  o f  t o m o r r o w s .

~*~

v.) nocturnes.

( a n d  i ‘ l l  s t a y  h e r e )

u n t i l  i  r u n  o u t  o f  n u m b e r s  t o  c o u n t ,

a n d  t h o u g h t s  t o  f e e l ,

a n d  n i g h t s  t o  s t a y  a w a k e .

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