Thursday, September 22, 2011


Everything is right when he says it. Everything is right when he does it. I tried it, doing the things that he did. But they just never had the same charm. Maybe he's a magician, or maybe he is magical himself. I don't smile the way he smiles, at least no one ever told me how my smile stopped the time. Technically, i've never told him about that, but his smile does that to me.

Metaphores had never been my forte, hah, i can't even spell it right. Still, there's no other way to describe a first love the way a poet does. He was the beginning of my journey, the city i've always wanted to visit. But though never reaching the destination, the journey was meant as a journey to overcoming myself, and to be okay with who i am stuck with. With my shyness, or confusions, or with my day dreamings - so foolishly about being his.

Yet, to sit beside him quietly, and to share the same air, i still feel like a victor. At least, our carbon dioxides, the love child of our lungs and oxygen, will meet and mingle.

Past Relationships

Adrift you send me away
let me remember the slight touch of your fingers
i was cold when you find me
the warmth of your lips
was my first breath
your tongue like i could taste you
but you empty me out
and you pulled me away
as you kissed my lips for the last time
and threw me to the sea
within me your message
not for me but the next person who will
find me and open me up
once again, like you did

you won't see me again
even made the sea promise you that

i fear his slightest stroke
tight shut my eyes
still he caress the words you've written in me
he's reading them
each word, soft whispers
i hear you
you're reading this to me
like it was written to me
to me was your words of farewell

then he slipped your letter
back into me
a tap
i let you
be gentle
i sighed

he brushed my lips
lighter than your kiss
the sands upon my toes
he dusted
then he looked through me
saw the sun through me
and the sea through me
before he threw me again
a bottle with a message

Monday, September 19, 2011

I came back to say

I would love to hear you play the piano again. I mean, really, Jade, you were fantastic on it. For once i could forget who is the player, and just focused on what's being played. Music to me is melody, is feeling, is the heart. 'S not technique, it is not theory, it is not mastery, much like what you believe in. You've been fussing too about this crap called mastery. You think i'm not good enough, and i will amount to nothing, like i dont master anything, heck i aint got no masters on anything. That is what you expect your man to have, an MBA.

But do you ever think about me the way i think about you? You don't do you, Jade. Cause you said you see nothing in me, and i'm a fool to bare it and say still that i love you. So, no, Jade. This ain't no worship, admiring you is ruining me. Not anymore. I am not going to be in love with you, if you can't even say to me straight up that you honor me the way i respect you.

So i came back to say this. Knowing you made me know me. Thanks for that.

Thursday, September 8, 2011


i told him i made him dinner, but he walked passed me, grab the wine glass and filled it with water. i waited, yet he drank two more glass and went away. He didn't say a word, didn't even bother to look at me. so i went to the bedroom, took off my necklace and my bracelet, and sat on the bed while the sound of running water filled the silence between us.

i thought to myself, the world isn't a perfect sphere. but who said that it needs to be a perfect sphere to be perfect.

I walked into the bathroom, Liam was taking a shower. I saw my reflection on the foggy mirror, and opened my hair bun. He turned off the water and sigh. again i waited.

If the world was black and white, this scene will be a beautiful shot. I can see Lydia's silhouette from behind the curtain. That same sculptural stance lured me into adoring her. Sensibility was the trick of her trade, logic her gravitas, composure her charm. God, like i need anymore silence!

Rust had crippled the strongest stronghold. The only audible thing was the beat of our hearts that was playing different tempos. I know mine was failing, with every second i pass waiting, my heart would eventually gave up. It is giving up.. it has been battered.

I don't need ears to tell that she was hurting, she was crying, and she was trying to conceal all that. but of course she doesn't have the heart to tell it to me. she doesn't.

i couldn't hear my logic. once it was the clearest part to me. now it's all muddied by these black tar of emotion. gone was the days of pros and cons, of statistical probability and of gain and loss theories. even death wouldn't be as heavy as this.

Yet that cold, beautiful, perfection was the only woman i was pulled into. Like i was the waves, moved hopelessly towards the moon's gravity but no matter how hard i was pulled, i was never close enough. never reaching. never one..

i opened the shower curtain. three seconds our eyes met. he was dry, and he was clothed. but his cheeks were wet.

"if you could just hear me," i whispered.
"if you
could just hear me,
if you could
just hear me,
if you could just
hear me,
if you could just hear
if you could just

and he wiped my tears. he is deaf, but he understood.

A Word from Non-Fiction World: for reals

Hey, This is me. The writer. I am currently enrolled in this class that requires me to write everyday. So, i will be writing my stuff here, on this blog (i'll keep them fictional, yes) when i am not tired of looking at the computer.. or else i'll be scanning pages from my notebook (i'll try). Wouldn't that be great? You get to see my handwriting!

Anyway, I am thinking of either short stories or poems, or longer to-be-continued stories. we'll see, i'm keeping this thing open, but with special constraints.