I hope doing this would help. I’m better now, a lot better. Come November 21, I’ll draw the line where a new life starts, and every entry before such must be considered irrelevant. Though, I’m not going to delete them, for clerical purposes.

The Little Things I’ll Miss about You

Someday, someone who knows me is gonna read this. Maybe a friend, maybe a future lover, maybe you.

To my friend, now you know. I loved him so much, and by the time you’re reading this, I most probably love him still.

To my future lover, I’m sorry. I don’t know if we’re gonna be different. If it’s gonna be different. Maybe some of the things we do, we do them because they remind me of him. I don’t want to love you because I see him in you. I want to love you for who you are, but it isn’t easy. I’m sorry. Maybe I’ll learn to love you too, but his will always be different. I’m hoping all these isn’t true. That I’m gonna love you more than I love him. But if I can’t, I am so sorry. Maybe I’ll love you, but I’m still gonna be in love with him, too.

To you, if by some chance you get to read this, I hope you’re happy. Sincerely. I want to be with you. I want you to be with me, but if I can’t make you happy, then I have to let you go, because I love you. And that’s how love should be. The reason why I’m writing this here is so that it isn’t completely lost in some private folder or trunk when I die, or forget about it. It will be here for as long as wordpress won’t collapse, and for as long as the internet isn’t obsolete. And the reason why this isn’t in my blog, is so you don’t know. Like the stack of unsent letters I keep somewhere. Letters I want you to read, but you shouldn’t. You shouldn’t know how I feel. It’s gonna bother you, and that’s the least I wanna do. No, actually I want to do it, but only out of selfishness. And you taught me how to love, how to give, I was spoiled. But I was never spoiled with you. I’d make other people do things for me, but I’d never whine at you. If you want to, come back to me. You don’t have to say sorry, you don’t have to think of your pride. I want to move on, I really do. I just hope, I still find you where I’m going.

____________________________________________________________________________________

When nightmares wake me up at 3 am, I think of you. You know that place between reality and sleep? When everything’s so surreal, you start to wonder which is which? In that place, in that moment, I hear your voice, I feel your embrace, I think of your kiss, and of everything we had, and God oh how I wish that you were with me. You were with me still. In that moment, everything that’s happened feels like a bad dream and it feels as though you never said the words you said.

I try to hush myself to sleep, silencing the sobs that fill my mind. But I can’t. All I can think about are the little things I’ll miss about you. And maybe someday we’ll meet again, a different meeting than how we look at each other everyday today. Someday, maybe, our eyes will meet again, and our hearts will learn to tick the way they used to – in harmony with each other. That it’s going to be different. Not a continuation, but something new altogether. A better you, a better me, a better us, but the magic’s all the same. And then I won’t miss them anymore, those little things I’ll miss about you.

When you cup my face with your palm, and tell me that you love me, and I can see it in your eyes.

When you cup my face with your palm, caress my cheeks, and I ask you, “bakit?” then you say, “wala lang. ang ganda mo e”

When we’re walking on the street, and you make sure I’m walking on the side away from the road, so when a car goes crazy you can push me out of the way.

The way you make sure I take all my medicines.

When you feed me with your spoon.

Your special tuna recipe.

When you promise me you’ll take care of me.

When you hold me close and make me feel secure, that with you, I’ll never have to worry, coz you’ll protect me no matter what.

When you wrap your arms around my waist as if saying, hey this girl is mine and no one can take her away away from me.

When you sleep on my lap, and look for my hand to cling to.

When you grab my hand, lock your fingers with mine, and squeeze them tight, like you never want to let go.

When we’re all alone and you kiss me everywhere.

When we’re not alone, but you still manage to kiss me unseen.

When I cry and you take me in your arms and hush me.

When I can’t stop crying and you kiss me so I could forget.

because your kiss makes a muddle out of my mind, my knees buckle and shake, and my heartbeat double in count.

When you’d kiss me even when I’m sick.

When you’d buy me fruits so I stay healthy.

When you go all the way to my dorm, even at night, even in the wee hours, because I want you.

When you’d carry my stuff for me.

When you’d call just to hear my voice.

When you’d ask for me to come because you need me.

When you’d smile and look cute with your braces.

When you’d murmur in your sleep, and smile when i touch you.

When I’d fix your hair, and you’d mess up mine.

When we’d study at Mcdo, and eat chicken fillet for dinner.

When we’d order that lumpiang shanghai and burger steak meal at Jollibee, and you’ll eat the steaks, I’ll eat the shanghais.

When you’d kiss me even when someone’s looking.

When you’d draw doodles on my arms and hands.

Then kiss them.

When you smile, and your smile can make me do things I never thought I could, only because they’d make you happy.

When we argue over who’s gonna eat the strawberry Cello’s donut, because we both like strawberry.

When we argue about spending or not spending.

When you tell me I don’t look good with what I’m wearing, but you still love me anyway.

When you try to bring your umbrella, because I don’t want mine to get wet.

When you hold me in your arms, and tell me everything’s gonna be ok.

When we hold hands and you try to pull away because yours is getting sweaty, and then I hold on tighter to let you know, I love you no matter what.

When you got drunk and I was the only one who could calm you.

When you play with my hair when I’m sleeping.

When we’re all alone in your house, and discover each other’s body.

When I’m almost breaking down, and you hold my hand, and tell me to stay strong, and I do.

So when you left, no one was there to hold my hand and tell me to stay strong. Everyone tried to, but I would only listen to you. I talked to alot of people, heard lots of advices, but then I realized, I have to talk to myself. To listen to my own heart. And all I heard it say was that we want you back.

And I still haven’t learned to leave behind all those little things I miss about you. But I have learned to put them aside. And when I get reminded every now and then, I still feel the need to cry. Even when crying leads to nothing, except wasted time, and drenched pillows. Even when I feel like I’ve been drained of all emotions. I’m tired of loving, I’m tired of feeling miserable. I’m tired of caring. But if you come back and heal everything, it’ll be like an ebbing source of energy that’ll never run dry.

I thought we were gonna be forever, but the only thing that’s forever, is this longing that one day, I’ll see you smile the way you used to smile, and that you’ll share you’ll smile with me.

It kills me, that someone else gets to enjoy these little things with you. But I know I should be happy that you’re happy, even if I’m not. The way you always wanted me to be happy, even when you’re not.

But I don’t care about those little things anymore. They can change, they can go. they can be left behind. I miss them, yes, but I miss you more.

I miss those little things about you.

I miss you.

My Gift of Moonlight (a companion story to The Gift of Moonlight)

*PLEASE READ THE GIFT OF MOONLIGHT FIRST.. IT’S BETTER THAT WAY.. OR YOU CAN READ THIS FIRST IF YOU WANT… BUT IT WOULD STILL BE BETTER IF YOU READ TGM FIRST

Sometimes I wonder how he could have even seen me in the first place. Was it because I was pretty? Was it because I was smart? Was it because I was gifted? Or was it because he couldn’t have her and so he settled for the next best thing. Jared and Cassandra had been friends since they were little. They’ve been together for so long that everyone thought they’d end up as lovers. Then I showed up and ruined everything.

I spent the summer of two years ago at my uncle’s house in a suburb near the beach. That was when I met Jared and Cass. I was never good at anything that involved balance and coordination, but I tried to surf anyway. Jared, probably seeing how pathetic I was, came to my rescue and offered me some lessons. Starting that day. I spent my entire summer with Jared and Cass. but mostly Jared. He would buy me lunch, ask me to go boating, he even offered me dinner on his father’s yacht. Jared and I grew closer and Cass didn’t show up much anymore, then I received news that I was to transfer schools and attend the same highschool as Jared and Cass. When I first told them about the news, Jared embraced me and I just stood there awestricken and unable to respond. The warmth from his hug was too soothing and to overwhelming to ignore. I allowed myself to wallow in his touch, but when I opened my eyes, I saw Cass. She was just standing there, smiling, but I could see her pupils twitching and tears about to break so I freed myself from Jared and turned to Cass.

“Great! we’re going to have so much fun together!” she exclaimed.
“I’m so glad you’re staying!!” Jared added.
“Yeah, me too,” I replied, directing my gaze to Jared.

We spent that night around a bonfire, roasting marshmallows, and just reminiscing the past summer and how fun it’s been. Cass received a text message from her mom telling her to come home coz her dad’s coming back from a business trip in England and they all had to be there when he gets back.

Then it was just me, Jared, the bonfire, and the sea.

“Oh my gosh, I can’t believe I’m really staying. This summer has been so much fun and I thought it’ll all end soon.”

Silence. Awkward silence. Except for the crackling firewood and the sound of distant waves.

“Lis, I’ve had so much fun with you and lately I’ve been thinking, do you think we could ever be more than just friends?”
“Why?”
“You’re pretty, you’re fun, you make witty comments that make my head turn but in a good way, and you’re just so perfect I don’t think I’d be able to stand just being friends with you. I know this is cheesy, but I think I don’t just like you.” I was shivering, but it wasn’t because of the chilly wind; it was because of what I was about to say.

“I think I love you too.”

His hand reached for my head and he cupped my faced with his right, and held my shoulders with his left to keep myself from shivering. The kiss was mtutual and unprecedented. It drove me insane and all I wanted was to keep on kissing him, to let him feel what I’d been feeling for the past summer, and to absorb his passion and his tenderness. All I wanted was to melt in his hands, and in a way I did. I was breatheless and I could hear my heart banging on my chest, but I was happy and I was inlove with Jared. And that was all that mattered.

Jared and I had a steady relationship for two years, and finally graduation day came. Jared and I planned to go to the State University together, but Cass decided to stay for a while since she said she was sick of studying and she wanted to take a break. Jared, Cass and I originally planned to spend graduation night on the beach where we first met, but my grandma gave me a surprise visit so I had to stay home and entertain her for a while. I told Jared and Cass to continue with the plan and if by 11 I’m not there yet then it meant I wasn’t coming.
My grandma went to sleep at around 10:45 so I decided I might still be able to make it. I walked as fast as I could to reach our meeting place in time but it was already 11:07 and I was still a few meters off. I decided I might be too late, but then I saw a bonfire and thought I’d creep up from the shadows and surprise them; how I’d love to see the looks on their scared faces! I went as quietly as I could, hiding behind every beach umbrella left open. I thought the last umbrella and this is it, I’ll jump at them with my hair at my face and I’ll hug Jared so that they’ll know it’s me, so I peeked out from the umbrella to gauge the best angle for an assault, but instead of surprising them, it was me who was taken by surprise.
Cass and Jared were locked in a tight embrace, sharing the most passionate kiss I had ever seen. There was something different in the way Jared kissed Cass. He looked more in love than the times when he kissed me. His hands were wound around Cass in a hold that seemed to say he didn’t want the moment  to end, he didn’t want to let her go. Then all of our memories came flashing back to me. In school, everyone seemed to look at me as the third party, like I came in and ruined a perfectly good couple. Jared’s parents also treated Cassandra as thought she were Jared’s girlfriend, not I. Even Jared. Sometimes when I lay my head upod his shoulder and he places his arm on mine, it felt as though he was pretending I was someone else. Sometimes when we hug, I feel as thought he was trying hard not to let me go. Sometimes when we kiss, his lips are hard and forceful, as though demanding a different set of lips, wishing mine be replaced by someone else’s. But I didn’t mind because I love him. And I was contented to absorb his love, even if it wasn’t meant for me. I was contented, but I wasn’t happy. Now I know, it was never me. It had always been Cassandra, right from the start. But why? Why did he have to use me? Why did he have to caress my cheek and pretend it was her’s? How did he even see me in the first place when all that he had been wishing for was her?
I crouched behind the umbrella as I heard the sand scattered by their footsteps. They didn’t hear me cry – because I didn’t sob, I didn’t say anything; I just let the tears roll down as I closed my eyes pretending – wishing – I were dead. Death would have been better than this.

——————————–

I didn’t tell Jared; I just kept playing my part, and so did he. It’s been six months since we moved to the city to study at State. I haven’t seen Cass since that night, but I have been her for the last six months. I took Jared’s kisses, I succumbed into his hugs, even though I know they weren’t mine. It was fair, we were both playing pretend – he pretend I was Cass, and I pretended his love was real. Sometimes I too pretended I was Cass, so atleast I could pretend that those gestures really are for me. Whatever masks had there been, whatever roles I had played, it made no difference. The bottom line was that we were both pretending, but if pretending was the only way, then I would have been willing to be a professional actress.
Today, Jared got a call from Cass’s mom.Cass was in the hospital and she needed to see Jared badly. I wondered how ill Cass could be that Jared’s visit couldn’t wait. His car was going beyond his normal speed, and he was sweating inspite of the airconditioner. I looked at him and I could really see the tension and the anxiety in his arched brows. How I wish Jared would show me that kind of concern as well.
We arrived at the hospital and I saw Cass on the bed: pale, eyes closed, and struggling to breathe. The cardiograph was panicking then it suddenly produced a continuous beep, a straight line. Death with his wretched scythe. Jared rushed to Cass and placed a kiss on her forehead, then to her lips. Had Cass been alive, I would have been dead. but Cass was dead, and I could only feel sorry for them – both of them.
Now I understood.
Cass didn’t want them to be lovers cause she didn’t want to leave him when her imminent death would come. She surrendered her love and gave Jared to me because she knew I would take care of him. Jared didn’t tell Cass his true feelings because they’d been friends for a long time, and he certainly didn’t want to ruin that friendship. He also confessed to me about that kiss at the beach and he told me he was only doing Cass a favor, perhaps, from there, he deduced that Cass only viewed his kiss as a favor from a friend. Pity these two lovers. They never gave themselves a chance. Cass had loved Jared, but she didn’t show it because she thought Jared chose me and she didn’t want to leave him to misery when this day happens. Jared had loved Cass but he thought she didn’t love him back and he didn’t want to ruin their friendship. That’s why he chose me. I was only an option, but I made him my priority. Don’t get me wrong, It’s not someting I regret.

Cass is dead and though I’m supposed to be happy because I’ll finally own Jared, I’m not. Because first of all, Cass is my friend. Jared loved Cass too much that all I wanna do know is be Cass just to make Jared happy, because I love him too much as well. As my promise to Cass, I will try my best to make Jared happy, even if I can never be her. I’ll take care of him and I hope, someday, he’ll be able to see me, not as Cass, but as me. I hope that someday, I would make him and Cass both happy. This is my promise to Cass, and  this is my promise to myself. I am only moonlight, Cass is the sun. But when the sun has set, without the moon, the darkness would leave one blind. Tomorrow, I hope I could be the sun as well. For now, it’s moonlight that Jared needs most, the morning will have to wait.

note: for those who’ve read “The Gift of Moonlight”, this story is writen in the point of view of the other girl, Lisa. She’s the one standing at the door when Cass died. The Gift of Moonlight is also posted in this blog..

His

ridges turn to rivers
my wrist is worn but the ink runs dry;
drier still the canvas.

if we holds hands
would you feel my deep calluses -
etched by fingers of a different touch?

would you rejoin the veins that have been broken
by festered scars
from fingers of a different touch?

a painful one

because time knows more than the heart does
but the heart is louder than any tick
or tock -
it screams;
the clock merely whispers
in vague,
uneven
breaths.

if our lips should touch
will your passion be enough
to silence the icebergs that remain
from the lips of a different touch?

if our eyes should meet
will the brilliance spill and reach my soul?
will the spark ignite the flints that have been dampened by a river of tears?

if i should give my heart
will your love rain down and wash his filth?
the filth that once were sparkling diamonds
the filth i still hold dear.

but how could i even give my heart
when all that’s left are memories
of a different touch
of a different kiss

from a different time

his.

The Irony

you saw me by the riverbank

turning the water into a sea

listening to a tale of woe

that the nightingale sang to me

i saw you by the riverbank

your hair the glow of honey

i listened to the song you sang

that lifted all my misery

you saw me looking at the stars

their brilliance mirrored in mine eyes

but darkness still engulfed within

and through my truth of lies

i saw you looking at the stars

echoing their magnificence

your brilliant smile illuminating

a heart so dull and dense

you saw me dancing in the woods

to tunes i could not hear

i waltzed across the freezing earth

with beasts that i should fear

i saw you dancing in the woods

with grace that none can bind

you waltzed across and melted earth

with beasts — a soul too kind

you saw me masking all my misery

but all you did was stare

with eyes that burned with vehemence

to wake and find her there

i saw your exquisite bravery

but there was nothing i can do

i burned with outmost longing

to wake and dream with you

he wanted to embrace her

she wanted so to be with him

but all she could do was cry her loss

and all he could do was dream

so he did not even kiss her hand

he refused to dream again

he knew too well to fall inlove;

suffer pain that knows no end

and there he was inside his car

sheltered from the storm and rain

but the lightning caused his lights to flicker

and his aged blood to stain

in a flash of light his vision left

but he knew that he shall live

two cars had turned to scrap at once

now a million folks shall grieve

but none had mourn as much as he

when he pulled the cover off he corpse

his smitten soul could take no more

and he was filled with vile remorse

a familiar face he used to see

was smothered thick with blood

she has died the second time

now the audience shall applaud

The Gift of Moonlight

“It will be the kiss by which all others in your life will be judged… and found wanting.”
~Hearts in Atlantis by Stephen King

“Will you kiss me?” I asked him.
“Huh? Why?” he asked with astonishment in his voice.
“I was just wondering if you would, that’s all…”

I kept my gaze focused on my toes, and my mind on his reaction. The waves smashed against the huge boulders swimming near the cliff, their sound filling my ears with sweet music; the melody resembling the overture of rainfall, and then receding. I can barely make out the crackling of the firewood as the flames danced like ballerinas on a moonlit stage.

I hugged my knees tighter and closer to my chest as a breeze blew west and swept my hair across my face. His silence was driving me anxious.

“So?” I inquired.
“It’s getting late, I think we better go.”

There goes my kiss. I thought to myself. He got up and held his hand out for me and how I wished that he were mine. How I wished that palm – that smile, that guy – were mine to take. I took his hand, pretending we were lovers holding hands, not friends out on a casual conversation. He pulled me up with the slightest effort, and before I knew it, one of his hands slid on my back and the other on my nape.

Had I any experience on kissing, I would have known how to respond. I would have known how to equal every brush of his tongue, exploring, delving further. I would have known how to slant my lips as gracefully as he did with his. I would have known how to hold him as possessively as he cloaked me. And I would have held him close, I would have let him know, if only through my touch, that I desired much more than friendship, I desired a kiss much more than just a friendly favor. I desired all of him.

It ended just as quickly as it had begun.

“You satisfied?”

I nodded shyly, aware of the redness that still painted my cheeks.

“If only you aren’t so old as sixteen, I could have sworn you’d never kissed before”

He laughed and I blushed even more.

…..

Six months have passed since Jared moved to the city. During the first months, he called our house every single night, but as time passed, his calls became less frequent. I’m still getting used to the idea of losing my best friend, even though I should be more taken by the thought of losing my life.

“Hearts in Atlantis” still lay on the desk, unfinished, and perhaps never to be finished. I stopped at the part where Bobby kisses Carol when they were on top of the Ferris Wheel. I suddenly thought of Jared, and of that kiss a year ago. Three hundred sixty five days seems like a long time, and the memory of a kiss should not be as vivid as it is in my memory.

I might die any minute now. I might die tomorrow or the day after. I might have died yesterday. It doesn’t matter for I will die anyway. Leukemia is just a catalyst, and perhaps, without it I wouldn’t have had the courage to ask Jared for that kiss. The only reason why I wanted him to kiss me was to know how it felt to be kissed before I die. If I could be kissed only once in my life, I wanted it to be him.

They tell me he’s coming. They tell me during the past nights, I kept calling Jared in my sleep, so they told my mum and dad and mum called him up and told him to come. Pity if he only made it in time for my rites, then he could do the eulogy – he knew me best than anyone else. It doesn’t really matter whether he comes or not. I don’t want his worried face to be the last thing I see before I die. I’d don’t want to hear his voice asking me why I never told him I was sick. I’d rather immerse myself in the memory of his kiss – gasping for air not because I’m dying, but because he made me breathless.

I hear the cardiograph beeping, and my heart thumping like the sound of hooves from death’s black chariot. I try to remember the night, the flame danseuses and the orchestra of waves. I close my eyes as I try to remember his open palm, his smile, his gaze, his kiss – our kiss. And I pretend it were truly a kiss of love.

I hear the sound of familiar voices from the background – voices of those who sooth and scold me, of those pretty faces in white uniforms, of those wearing stethoscopes, probably witnessing death for the nth time.

And then I hear his voice and I can’t recall a part of my memory where he calls my name with vehemence and strength, so I decided it must have been real. It took me quite some effort to open my eyes and focus on the images surrounding me. The faces are hazed out and blurry but I can tell it’s him by the way he moved towards me.

Now I’m sure it’s him, I can see his face clearly…and I can see mine. Pale, flaccid, and cold, I see my body wrapped in his arms, the shoulders of my hospital gown drenched in his salty tears. My mum is sobbing silently on one corner and my dad isholding her in his arms. The nurses slowly turn to leave, followed by the doctors. My mum hyperventilated and passed out so my dad carried her out of the room to give her some air in the balcony. I remember the days when I look out on that balcony and see lovers, wishing I had mine. Now he’s here, holding me, dead.

He kissed my forehead – the way friends do – and held me close. And then he kissed my lips. Had I been watching it on television, I would have been grossed out. But it’s my body, and those are my lips. He is my love and that is a kiss, not anymore a favor but a gift. And if I wasn’t virtuous enough to deserve heaven, I don’t care, because his arms are my sanctuary and his kiss is my salvation.

If it wasn’t for him, I would never have known the pleasure and ecstacy of a kiss. If it wasn’t for his friendship, it might not have been a happy death. And if it wasn’t for her, he would have been mine. And that kiss by which all others in my life would have been judged would have fulfilled it’s role for then I’d have more of his kisses, but just as undescribable as the first.

And I surely found myself wanting more, even though I knew there was nothing to hope for because I know she’s there.

But why the kiss? Why now when I am dead and could feel nothing of his heat?

He brought his lips closer to my ear so I floated across the room and I heard him whisper: “I’m sorry I never told you, it’s just that you seem so happy with our friendship and I don’t want to risk that by telling you how I feel. Thank you for the kiss. I would never have known kissing could feel so good until I shared it with you. I’ve always pretended she was you, and ever since that night I could pretend it’s your kiss. I’ll keep on pretending. It’s always been you, it’ll always be you and your kiss.”

He wept.

And I wept with him.

Author’s notes: not autobiographical. unedited (might encounter typos and grammatical errors (especially in tenses)). I didn’t get the Leukemia thing from A Walk to Remember or Love Story, a lot of tragic love stories involve disease and cancer just seems pretty romantic, Leukemia the most romantic of them all. I PITY THE OTHER GIRL – JARED’S JUST USING HER. THEY MAY WEEP FOR EACH OTHER, BUT I WEEP FOR HER!

yes, I know exag, but to hell with it..

and no. I’ve never been kissed. and i don’t care.

The Story of a Lovebird: a tragedy

There I was, perched upon a tree branch as sturdy as my bird bones were fragile. I saw him walking down the sidewalk, like he did every morning. This time I was determined to fly to him and gaze at his tantalizing human eyes. I wanted to search him and I wanted to discover that somewhere deep within his gaze was a person capable of loving a bird. I fumbled trying to fix my feathers; I wanted to look my best for this moment; I wanted him to
notice how such a wonderful bird I am.

Then I swooped down and followed close behind him, tweetering and twattering as sweetly and as loudly as I could that he might hear me and fall inlove with my melodious singing. Nothing happened. Growing impatient, I paced up until I was about five meters in front of him, then very slowly I turned to face him as he walked towards me.
Face to face we were. Then he held out his hand and I landed on his warm palm. The heat radiating from his skin was too much for me to handle. I tilted my head again and again. you see, when birds keep on tilting their heads and looking at you, they’re already deep within your soul, learning the things you yourself have never known.

he looked at me with a parallel intensity, and I couldn’t seem to penetrate his gaze. He battled my eyes with his own as he tried to look deep into mine. Oh, and when he smiled – that sweet smile I see him make each and every morning as I peep inside through his windows – when he smiled I felt my feathers scorched by the flame he’s building up inside of me. He drew me closer to his cheek as he tried to smoothen my feathers with his skin and all I could do was shiver with delight. If only he were a bird, or if only I were human.

He lifted his hand as if to let me fly, and I refused at first. but with all the intensity and hapiness inside me, what can a bird do but fly? don’t humans say they can fly with hapiness? doesn’t hapiness make a human feel as though he was soaring high up in the air? and so i flew! I flew high up in the skies! I flew above the clouds! I flew up to the highest reaches my little wings could carry me for I have never felt such hapiness until we touched.

If it wasn’t for the enormous pleasure this encounter has given me, I would have died with pain when a bullet shot through my wings as they spread foregrounding the sky. down and down I fell but my love for him seemed to wash away all the pain as my vision turned to black and I felt my body hit the ground – the last thing i remember was being carried by a familiar hand – a hand I recognized, but I wasn’t quite sure for the bullet has made a muddle out of my mind.

When I woke up, I was laid across a white satin cloth inside a human bedroom. strange but the bedroom seemed so familiar to me – and then I realized: could it be? could that gunshot have damaged my wings such that I may never know flight again and yet has brought me to this place where I’ll never need to fly again? Just the sight of him could bring me to heights!!

I was in his bedroom and my wings weren’t recovered completely – and I wish they never will that I may stay inside this heaven until the end of my short and happy life.

He entered the room and my spirit burned with all the longing and the frustration. His smile was there and his eyes were as dazzling as usual. but then this human girl followed behind him. they were laughing and they were touching each other and I heard him tell her “let’s do it”

I’m not a human and so I didn’t know what ‘it’ meant, but it seemed to be something good as the girl’s face brightened and she nodded with vehemence – a mischievous look in her eyes.
he too seemed to like this ‘it’. before i knew it, the lights went out and ecerything was dark.

it’s a good thing we birds can see quite well in the dark – it’s an ability i treasured so much coz i can see him inside his bedroom when he slept. this night however was something different. he did not sleep – much less was he alone. when the lights went out i saw him touch his lips with the girl’s, toxic and ravenous, they slanted against each other in a frantic manner. and then he slowly removed whatever covered the girl’s skin. and he removed his as well.. and then I couldn’t describe it anymore – i saw things i’ve never seen before. and yes, i saw him happy and i heard his screams and I heard his pleasure and i saw the girl returning the fervor. they looked so much inlove with each other that all i can do was stare at them. i don’t know if humans can cry coz I’ve never seen him cry and he was the only human i knew – but birds, birds can certainly cry. when birds cry they couldn’t fly, and their voice turns into a croak. how i wished i could’ve sung that night, to let him know i loved him, to let him know i still loved him despite seeing him share such passion with another human, but i couldn’t. when i tried to sing nothing came out. when i tried to fly, i found i couldn’t. and so i stared at them – just looking at them wishing i could get to share that same passion with the human i love. all throughout the night as they lie there without their removable feathers, i kept looking
at him and how I hated his smile that time. I liked it when he smiled but that night was different. but i hated the human girl more. i hated her so much that my hatred gave me strength. then i became strong enough to lift my wings. and i flew to them, landed on the monster’s face and tried to peck at the skin covering her big eyes.

The human’s scream woke him up and he caught me by my neck and threw me out the window – that was the last time i ever saw him, and the last time i felt his touch

i lay at the sidewalk; the heat was back in my chest. the heat of my blood oozing out my thin layer of bird skin consumed my mind, and my white feathers turned to rose petals as the lava flowed out from my veins.

all i ever wanted was to look deep in his eyes – all i ever needed was love – the love of this human. i couldn’t hate him, not even now. in fact i love him even more – i love him more than ever before – i love him with all the love a little bird can offer.

as i lay there, dying, waiting for my last breath, a pair of cupped hands cuddled my blood-soaked feathers and drew me close – close to that human’s heart.

“oh, little bird, i wish i were you! i wish i could fly high up in the skies and make beautiful songs! i wish i had beautiful feathers like yours! I wish i were a lovebird just like you so I can love all I want and have no one to break my heart. but it seems you’re dying little bird… let me see what I can do…”

humans are fools. beautiful feathers didn’t make me any more attractive to him than that human girl, much less when she removed her feathers. beautiful songs can’t tell him how much I love him – to him they are all just mere tweets and chirps. and why fly? why fly up to loneliness when the human I love is here? glued to the ground and fated to remain here forever – as I am fated to die. You stupid human. you can’t do anything; i’ll die anyway, and I’ve accepted that fact – as i’ve accepted the fact that I’ll never be more than just a mass of pretty feathers with cute tweetering to him. to the human I love.

and as i die i can’t help but wish him all the hapiness even if i’m not there anymore. even if i’m not there atop the tree waiting for him every morning, singing to him my song of love – even if he doesn’t understand. i don’t care as long as i know i love him and as long as he is happy.

and the most wonderful thing i envy about humans are lips. they have lips to tell each other how much they love them, though they rarely do so. they have lips to make each other feel their love, yet they use them for fouler things.

and most especially, i wish i had lips that i might at least give him a smile to let him know how happy I am just loving him with all the love a little bird can give.

Poet’s Cry

i wish i were that person
who writes those beautiful poems

those line that tell of passion
that tell of tears and
tragedy
the tale of broken parasols
and frogs that croak in tune
and lives that end in blood and kisses
and the star that loved the moon

those rhymes that make love so alluring
so captivating
exhilariating
worth-the-waiting
excruciating

pain

as flames that flicker from the eyes of unknown strangers
turn her livid wishes
burning into ashes
and spread like wildfire into the mist of mystery

until the sky falls down the mountains
or her cry-calls turn to fountains
the poet keeps on writing
until her fingers bleed
but the stories that she makes
will spin themselves to nothingness

for as her pencil drops into the abyss
she’ll write about a thousand years of kisses

and her tears will fill oblivion
until it’ll overflow
for she has never
never felt the flame that burns the lips
and her lips will never know…

…the passion
…the tears
…the touch of a loving hand
that makes her poem the dreamer’s promised land

and so i wish i were that person
who writes those beautiful poems
‘coz at least she can dream of love

in a land not ruined by reality
she can dwell forever in naivete
and let love remain in her poetry

as it should be.

On turning 17. (A goodbye childhood poem)

I have to go.
And let dreams be dreams;
Believe
That what seems will never seem.

Dreams likke the smoke that flickers from the incense stick -
fragrant, sweet -
that eludes from one’s embrace.

For time is invincible,
there are things you have to leave
and fantasies
become too foolish to believe

True, that lies are our truth
and truth is but a lie
But how does one set the boundary?
How does one beseech the oracle
to tell of tales untold?
How does one escape the dungeons
that memories unfold?

It’s not because we love to sleep
that beds were made and done
But because we left the childhood
when sleep was but for none.

‘Coz children dream when they awake
And never sleep for dreaming’s sake

And as time will offer different dreams
You too, will lose that boundary

But what if one becomes a victim
of a prison time can’t break?
Will he
Will she
just stop the crime of dreaming
dreams from childhood’s play?
There is just one solution
that poets often say:

Whoever makes the law
(for most, I’d say society)
Has no power, has no say
To one devoid of sanity.

And that’s why I have to go,
I have to go away.

MissPercyVed

the morning breeze wept when she heard your tale

like restless banshees of restless deaths

a drop of blood, a drop of sweat

silenced the echoes of gasping breaths

you ran across the blazing sand

and scorched your feet to brazen brass

and though you tried to reach it’s touch

the surface never turned to grass

and then you sat and waited dawn

the rooster spoke and you heard it say

“miss, I’ve never left from Loversville,

and miss I’ve never seen the day!”

and then you cried but shed no tear

and then you died but showed no fear

and then he said beside his bride

“I thought of you the day I lied”