The Weight of Passion

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I once dreamed
of loving another.
I once hoped
for a kind lover.
I once believed
in newfound light,
though slightly twisted,
I sought too bright.

You weren’t first
to capture my heart,
you weren’t alone
to play a part.
You never knew
the weight of passion,
you let me hurt,
under attraction.

This is the part where my heart
is ahead of my brain, when I can’t
refrain from thinking about you.
I want to get rid of you,
from my strain of thought,
from what you once brought
me into. Dim to the reality,
this is not love, this is a
tragedy. A tragedy written
in my hand, a command
I cannot ignore, implored
by my heart, which plays
a part in the sole of
my existence.

For instance, you held me close once more,
and promised another forevermore.
This will be my ruin and my end,
impaling a heart I cannot defend.
In the end, I will discover
that you were never my lover;
you were a sinner who
wrapped my beginner’s heart
and took it apart, piece by
piece by piece. You are a
disease I cannot cure.

Surely, you never truly
loved me the way
I loved you. Did you?
To recall your vows
of staying, and of me
praying for them to be
true, you lied to me,
didn’t you?

Here lies the weight
of my passion, a crash into
misfortune. What once was
heavy, now a weightless misery.

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Between Stars

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I wonder why
we never talk
about tomorrow.

He touched me
and I saw the sky
for the first time.

She held me against
the moon and slowly
took me higher.

I can feel
the light
ignite
my skin
after so long.

You taste is dull
in comparison
to what I savor.

She let
our worlds
collide.

Being an angel,
or being a devil
is a lot heavier
than the gravity
of which we
are tied to.

I will miss
any of yesterday’s
moments spent
in either of their
loving embrace.

Will they
ever build
a city in
the sky
just for
me?

Desire becomes
vulnerability, as
vulnerability becomes
a supernova curtain call.

I’ve been in
their dreams;
which are
dark, crowed,
and achingly
lonely.

 He feels like
a rain and fire
cocktail made
to fill my senses.

They deceive me
into thinking that
a space between
two stars is safe.

Apologies for
giving you my
brightness,
my dignity,
my being.

The nakedness
of her is a portal
to a hyper dimension.

You have to
release me
from the
pleasure of
being in between.

Will I never learn
how to lust for my
own glory before
I lust for the heavens’
touch?

When words fail,
say love.

I can see a new
world whenever
he pulls me close.

I let her gaze
into the depths
of my broken,
zero matter soul.

Will I ever
confess that
I love him
as much as
I love her?

I sleep with
the fine line
between
two stars.

His hands are
a masterpiece
lost to so many
great galaxies.

Her kiss will
always be my
last meal on
a death sentence.

Kindness is finding
love with each of us,
and evil is not loving
at all.

The language that we speak in
is half of a rising nebula,
and half of a dying galaxy.

I don’t expect you to
understand the language
that we speak, for our tongues
are more expressive than you think.

I have never left neither
shadow nor cold,
for either side of me
burns with passion.

She may not be everlasting,
he may not be immortal,
but their flames shall dance
within my aging heart forever.

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The Aftermath

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before anything else,
know that i did not want this.

I
USED
TO
THINK
THAT
YOU
LOVED
ME.

I
WAS
CONVINCED
THAT
YOU’D
BE
ONE
OF
THOSE
THAT
WOULD
STAY
WHEN
THE
WORLD
CRUBMLED
DOWN.

YOU
NEVER
LOVED
ME.
YOU
COULDN’T
SAVE
YOURSELF.
WHY
PROMISE
THAT
YOU’D
SAVE
ME?

DON’T
LIE
TO
ME
ABOUT
THE
THINGS
YOU
SAID
YOU
WERE
GOING
TO
DO.

DON’T
EVER
THINK
THAT
I
WILL
LOVE
YOU
THE
WAY
I
USED
TO.

PLEASE
UNDERSTAND
THAT
I
NO
LONGER
NEED
YOU.

DEATH
INSPIRES
ME
TO
GIVE
YOU
A
GLANCE.

DEATH
IS
FAR
TOO
FORGIVING
FOR
YOU.

LIFE
IN
THIS
NEWFOUND
LIGHT
IS
THE
GREATEST
BLESSING
I
HAVE
UNCOVERED
ALONE.

after this every moment,
i shall call myself free from your poison.

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How I Used to Love

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I have been fooling
myself all along, for
I have never been
in love, not really.

So down this twisted,
narrow hall, I find out
that I have only ever
loved love itself.

Your touch is a toxin
my heart refuses to intake.

The way she looks at her own
reflection inspires me to look
at her the exact same way.

This is the part
when I’m supposed
to get on my knees and
beg for your affection.

You paint flowers
in the suns of my
eyes, expelling the
very darkness that
triumphs within me.

Tell me the fabrication
of your dreams, and admit
that I am no longer part of
their inner workings.

The way he loved her
made me want to love
more than just love itself.

I used to think
that you were
more than caffeine,
a granted wish
in naked sunlight.

Once, not so long ago,
I used to think my emotions
were relevant to you.

You are the off-key
melody that haunts
my endless nights.

My being is dismembered
like the rusted silver of
the long-term inevitable.

You have made
the ruins of my
crumbled forever.

Upon my core,
my heart still beats,
alone and content.

I will bleed when I see love,
but stand ever still when I hurt.

The memories of our
bodies colliding still
conflict me into
wanting you.

People always yearn
for what they do
not have.

Your wings used to captivate me,
I used to yearn to touch the sky,
yet now I never want to leave the ground.

The roots of which
you planted in the tips
of my fingers are wilting
at your absence.

I never promised anyone
my whole heart, just half
of a part of who I once was.

Dig deep within me,
and you will only find
light, nothing more nor
nothing less.

The pain I feel at the
wounds you once traced
is an illusion, a mask of
yesterday’s enigmas.

Those you love
you will never
forget, and I will
never remember
loving you.

All of this is a
summary, the epilogue
of how I used to love.

Every day I try to convince
myself that I am over you,
yet every day a new fragment
of myself reveals its attachment
to who you are.

This is my brain
catching up to my heart.

Trembling, I finally bid goodbye
and turn around.

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Self-Destruction

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My life is a ruin.

You are what
I desperately
need.

You are nowhere
to be found.

Plastic love,
elastic attraction,
dead passion.

I am by a stage
as you watch me
deplete and perish.

We pave the
paths to our
own chaos.

Listening to
you laugh is
like hearing
the last song
I’ll ever listen
to upon my
end.

Unfold into
the ecstatic
beauty that
you always
promised
to show me.

I cannot breathe
with ease.

Your smile,
your eyes,
your body
is a hindrance
to my existence.

Ashen faces,
neon fingertips.
I once held on
to an image of
us together,
once long ago.

I’ll see you
in the future
when we’re
no longer broken.

And by your
humble joy,
my drive has
been drilled
down to its
naked core.

Your demeanor
is a weapon to
set my world
on fire.

I will reach
the sky one
day and look
down at what
I could have
lived through
without you.

There are
lacerations
across my
body like
constellations
drawn by an
unloving creator.

You are
my caffeine,
and endless drum
that shakes my heart
and soul every single
night, dangerous, addictive.

Try to
release me.

I am your reckless
mess on the floor,
trashed, abandoned.

Will you be
kind enough
to let me
breathe?

I have collected my
memoirs on love and
breaking apart, and
not a single line
mentioned seeing
the gates of oblivion.

Step closer
to me,
by this
portal to
complete
nothingness.

You forced me
to love you,
somehow you
did, and I feel
for it. I fell for
you. I fell.

Pardon me,
I am in my
own lethality.

The least you
could do is look
me in the eye
and tell me that
what we had
was worth
something.

Your touch is
poison, your
lips are codeine.

I have seen the
worst version
of myself with
you, yet I somehow
I cannot let go.

This used
to be about
building towers,
not tearing
them down.

Take a moment
to lose me between
our mishaps.

And by loving you,
I have met my
self-destruction.

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Dead Love

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Since we know
deep within us
that love is dead,
why bother living?

You are the
constant fear
I try to keep
buried within me.

We were alright,
and then we took
a closer look and saw
the wretchedness that
we were made out of.

You are the embodiment
of beauty itself, eyes looking
at the world as if you know
that you have us to our knees.

Built from the song
of the sea, and the
lullaby of the wind,
you are a melody
I will never stop
longing for.

I am hopeless,
you are temptation.
I am breathless,
you are sin.

My affections lie
by death’s fingertips,
and all I can do from afar
is watch as you give
love like it is color and wind.

You taste like wine
to my alcoholic tongue.

And here I know
that this is slow suicide,
to try to love,
to try and love you.

My sober intentions
cannot defend my
drunken deeds,
but you are worth
all the transgression.

There is a beast
that stomps on the
perimeter of my heart,
and it carries your name
and shrieks in your voice.

The rhythm in my
chest implodes on
itself every time
your skin touches mine.

There are gravestones
across my body, marking
every spot you once
laid your lips upon.

I can’t breathe
when you share
the same atmosphere
as me.

Your blood is
expensive liquor,
your anatomy
seduces my heart
to take you in.

Fight me, take my
sins, ignite me.
I am your sacrifice
for tonight.

We can do
this again, and
again, and again.
What can stop
us now?

The ache you
cause somewhere
in the vicinity of
my affections
has killed whatever
hope there was left.

Chain my mind
to the floor, and
my limbs to the walls;
your love is torture.

Take me
against whatever
surface stands
in our way.

You have to
beware of
whatever
lies within me.

And we know
that our love
is death, and
we are lost souls.

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Nightmare Harmony

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You are a
conundrum
of reason my
heart must confront.

Choose a drug;
love or freedom?

Sing to me,
my darling angel.

You are a destructive
elixir, made for the
weak of heart.

Your voice is perfection,
your song is comfort.

Help me,
I am rage,
I am crumbling.
Help me,
I am fire,
I am ash.

Your comely
disposition
is my safety net.

A melody of
memories haunt
me into falling
in love with you
all over again.

You are real,
I need to find you.

You slaughter
my dreams
into wanting
to exist.

Hold on to
our fading
harmony.

Encompass me
with your voice,
in your song,
safe.

Look into my
eyes and tell me
that I am dreaming.

You are the
reason I look
forward for
tonight.

Whenever I blink,
your image surrounds
my head.

Find your
way to me
in this cyclone
of noise.

My darkness is
eternally serene
when you sing
me to sleep.

Whenever I hold
my breath, you
and I come together
in a sonic daydream.

Lullaby, lullaby angel,
stay with me,
for I will fear
the night
without you.

There is a
typhoon of
isolation in
agonizing silence.

You are the
sonorous rhythm
my heart follows.

Let us come together.

Whenever I close my eyes,
I will see you eliminate
the blackness of me.

You are music
made for the
gods to listen to.
My angel, I do not
deserve you.

I am your
instrument,
a human soul,
and you play me
like you are still
in heaven.

You are real,
you are real.
You are danger.

A hurricane will
form within me,
breaking the walls
you built.

In between you
and me are
storms and songs,
drugs and dreams,
and reality itself.

I am not afraid.

Once upon a time,
I was better alone.

I try to convince
myself that you
are all I need, my angel,
but the truth is you are
a nightmare my heart
has grown to love.

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Without

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What is
song without silence,
love without hate,
peace without war?

Nothing is
simple in this
collision course
of slow lovers.

Darling,
the dark is
too bright
without you.

Come home
to the sea,
come home
to the sky.
Come home
to my embrace.

Take the
stars away
from me,
take the
waves away
from me,
just never
take back
your heart.

Your beauty is
like the sun,
radiant, powerful,
dangerous.

Quiet.
Still.
Awake.

The moon will
howl in longing,
for the stars,
for the sun,
for anyone.

Your fingers
trace my scars,
burning my skin,
healing my heart.

The sun will rain,
and clouds will shine
when you find your way
right back to me.

Loving you
is slow suicide.

Tell me why
nobody will
ever love me
the same way.

Far away,
light-years apart,
there is a world
where I can live
alone and happy.

We are not easy,
we are scarred,
we are crumbling,
we are chaotic.

Look at me
with your lips
and kiss me
with your eyes.

I hate your everything.
I hate the way you smile,
the way you laugh,
the way you keep faith.
I hate that I might
truly love you.

Hearts wear out,
souls grow dim,
love falls apart.

I miss you,
I want you,
I need you.

Blinding darkness,
love of mine, please.
Please keep me safe.

This is our
paradise lost,
a love never lasting,
hurt everlasting.

I fear tomorrow,
yearn yesterday.
Today is unspeakable.

You used to fall
asleep in my arms.
I used to dream for
those nights to last.

Fire and ice,
both burn
the heart,
the hands,
the intertwined.

This is, was,
never strong
enough to stay
alive through the
storm.

Upon reckless kisses,
and accidental touches,
my love was never fake,
it was never a mistake.

Truth is the
epitome of
false satisfaction.

The hollowness
inside me will not
allow anyone else
to fill it but you.

I cannot
breathe alone.

What am I
without you?

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Poison Wings

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I am home,
but I have never
felt so lost in myself.

My wings are stronger
than my bones.
My bones are stronger
than my heart.

Oblivion is a song
we refuse to deafen
ourselves from.

You are lost.
You are wandering.
You are found.

Oh only angel of mine,
hold me through this firestorm,
capture my fragile heart with your wings.

Tell me what to smoke,
tell me what to drink.
Your heart is in my chest
and I need to find a cure
to let it breathe again.

Our bodies colliding
again and again is danger,
but never an accident.

Light me up
like one of your
cheap cigarettes.

I remember you
telling me once
that I am your home.

Keep yourself together.

I can feel the drumming
of your heart ring against
your cold, cold fingertips.

Down the hall,
down the aisle,
down the grave,
we go down together.

I am not mended
but I have my pieces.

There is a solemn sanctuary
around us when your arms
are around me.

Sweet creature, gentle beast,
hold me close, hold me quietly.
Anything, just hold me.

I don’t know
how to love you
like the way you
want me to.

Bring me home
to where we belong.

Your touch is
stronger than
vodka and cocaine
together.

Every time I am close
to you, I feel like a sinner
against my own virtues.

Pick your poison,
me or yourself?

How am I going
to find myself
back home when
you are ever moving?

When I am alone,
I think of you,
and I feel more alone.

Don’t open your eyes.
Listen to my skin,
touch my heart,
taste my senses.

I am intoxicated
by how safe I feel
around you.

I am your nicotine,
breathe me in.
I am your alcohol,
drink me quick.

Darling angel,
when we stop lying
to each other?

Nothing is ever nothing,
but I am empty without
your wings around me.

You are my broken home,
and you will always
be enough.

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Familiar Destination

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“My location is neverending, wandering, fleeting, free.”

There are roads and streets upon which the best moments come to life, where the memories are made.

I’m honestly not one for travelling to a new place, and discovering and learning new things for myself; well, not yet at least. I don’t like the idea of walking uncharted land, and settling into new habits for a day or two, or a few hours, then going back to where ‘real life’ lives. It’s upsetting to know in the back of your head that the paradise infront of you will not last for as long as wanted. But, despite that, I love the mere act of hitting the road and going places. I had already decided that I want to proclaim that the pathways of the world is my home, and that I am theirs.

 

I’m an actual dork. I want to go to SO many places, but I am broke af, and knowing me, will be for the near future, so there goes Europe. I am a tropical child, though, and have always bees one, forever longing and yearning the sun even if I really fucking  sometimes hate it. The best part of not getting to venture unto the wild, and faraway, is that you can find comfort in the smallest of spaces and minutes.

Staying in the car, calling shotgun or backseat, or even driver and riding unto a familiar destination about two hours away (or more, COME ON this is Philippine traffic) is good therapy if you’re okay with secluded spaces and near proximity to human skin. Riding with your friends or family is good if you want to pray together about the heaviest troubles, or call dibs on who gets to be DJ for the quarter of the trip. This is good if you’re comfortable with eating anything, from overnight oatmeal to sunflower seeds to an original glazed donut from Krispy Kreme, in a moving little box. This is the best feeling if you find sanctuary listening to Beethoven or OneRepublic in your earphones in the dead of night, your head on your older sister’s shoulder, slowly falling asleep to the shit driving of your dad that you’ve grown so used to. This is the best thing if you haven’t found yourself yet, and still are searching the gravel streets with your eyes closed and your hopes up.

 

I can’t say I’ve been to a place that has stolen my heart clean off my chest, but I have to admit that the journey going there, wherever, has named itself sanctuary.