We all mess up but not all of us learn.

Like A Storm — October 23, 2017

Like A Storm

Is there a word for when you’re in a storm where the wind is raging yet the sky is clear, and you suddenly feel nostalgic and sentimental for no apparent reason. Is there a word for when you just have that outpour of happy thoughts, random thoughts, that you just can’t stop.

When you suddenly feel that you could write that poetry you’ve been trying to find.

When it feels like you could express just about anything because your heart feels serene.

That feeling when you are physically in a big city but your mind, your heart, everything inside of you is in a field of grass, lying beneath the clear sky, humming to the sound of birds, feeling the wind through your hair, altogether at peace.

Is there a word for that?
I wish there is. Because then I’d tell you, “Hey, that’s how you make me feel. Like a storm weather. Without the gloom. Without the rain.”

Distance, Distant — July 3, 2017
Paper Plane — June 20, 2016

Paper Plane

So this is when it gets hard, this long distance relationship. When you tell me through Facebook that you are sick, and all I could send you is a handful of words that doesn’t even feel anything – just flat and black against the screen. It gets hard when instead of taking care of you, I say thank you to someone else for being there. It gets hard when instead of staying by your side all night to keep you company, I stay up all night wondering how you’ve been. It gets hard when you tell me you’re in pain and instead of hugging you and telling you that “You’ll be fine, I’m here”, all I could say is “You can do it. Everything will be alright.” It gets hard when all I could do is write down all my worries and make a paper plane out of my poetry, throw it in the wind hoping it will reach you – so that when you hold the same paper where my hands have been, you would feel them holding you and sending you messages, telling you that I’m just here. I’m far away, but I’m just here.

Contemplation. Resemblance. — January 27, 2016

Contemplation. Resemblance.

Once I contemplated why you never resembled the man of my imagination.
The way you think and the way you talk, quite the opposite actually.

Such imperfection. Much difference.
But you turned out to be the imperfection who could perfectly make me happy.

So I smiled, amused.
Ah, it was the man of my imagination who doesn’t resemble you at all.

Always About You — January 9, 2015

Always About You

When I try to write something about love
I always end up writing about you
Maybe because you were the closest I ever got.
Until we had the balls of our feet on full stop
Just a few meters before the finish line.
You took the sun out of my solar system
Left my world void of path
So that when it got hit by a million meteorites
It was shaken and holed.
Holed right here, just somewhere to the left.

When I try to write something about love,
I end up writing about you.
And my writings?
Of course, they’re sad love stories.

To him who gives his all — January 8, 2015

To him who gives his all

You always seem to plan things out
What to say, how to act
You always come off too anxious
Pressured to make things right.

Why so troubled my dear?
To make a mistake in front of me
Perfection is not my need
Just you in your comfortable personality.

Loosen up a little bit
Let everything flow on its own
Our moments shouldn’t be a chore
Let it be your comfort, your home.

You are already fine as you are
You and all your mess
So throw all your worries behind
And let me take care of the rest.

Imprisoned Feelings — January 7, 2015

Imprisoned Feelings

All I could do is smile at you
Hide my heart with words of trickery
The mind is always the doubtful one
The heart, always the fool
So listen to my words, my thought up words
While I lock up my feelings away from hurt

Then why now does this ink bleed with sadness?
Mourning for the heart in cage
The mind that held it prisoner
Is actually the fool of its own beliefs
But the heart is now tired and frail
And it’s begging to be set free

So I call out to you my distant star
Save me from my own distress
I have a hand that you long to hold
And a heart that you seek to have
But they can only make this poem for you
For I’m still scared
I’m scared to love