A Gift on Your Birthday. (A Spoken Poetry)

If it’s only me, I could say in thousand ways that I love you so much.

I could choose to do unimaginable things just to keep us in touch,

For you are in every song I hear; you are in every poem I write.

You are in every love quotes and stories I read and fantasize.

You are in every romantic movie I watch.


Every day, I miss how your hand locks with mine

While we watch all those movies until the very last credit line.

My forehead skin aches for your sweet kisses every night

As our frames and limbs intertwine.

Up to now, I am still amazed at how my frail body and your fleshy one fit just right.


However, the sunny parts of love stories have to come and pass;

Once in a while, happy endings are not meant to forever last.

We tried to keep our music playing, I kept wishing upon shooting stars.

And kept begging to GOD to give it another try, to give us another chance.

But how can good harmony be played from broken strings of two broken hearts?


My love, you chose to break my heart because you want to be better.

It was hard for me to accept that we cannot be together.

Our love is failing and we are falling apart.

Even if we sacrificed a lot to have gone this far,

It wasn’t enough to keep us intact.


And as far as I can tell, I’m not the one in your heart anymore.

I do not hunt your mind every day like before.

You no longer light up my phone every single night;

I am no longer the one you want to hug so tight.

Our constant conversations are lost and gone;

I am left behind seeing you have moved on.


I’m enclosed with this walls preventing me from being with you again.

I’m breaking my own heart to keep myself hidden from you,

But it’s going to be a lose-lose situation if I choose not to.

I’d rather let you live and keep you being alive,

Than choosing to keep in touch and we will hurt each other as much.


I want to be with you and kiss you in both sunny and stormy days.

I want to cuddle with you until the very last movie on our watch list.

I want to watch and criticize with you every recital and every concert you take me to.

I want to star gaze and have long and unending pillow talks with you under a blue moon.

I want to dance with you with our favorite songs playing on.

I want to write and play music with you like we used to do.


I tried holding on even on simple things like being friends,

But the harder I close my grip, the easier my fingers slip;

I’m counting every finger I used to hold on to this magic we created.

It’s funny because I must say, for once, I’ve gotten to believe in magic;

But there are always greater things magic cannot break.

I’m down to my last finger, one last chance to say:


This is it. I love you and I thank you for everything. Alas, this is the end.


N: I wrote this in June last year, 2016. I lost my hard drive November of the same year. I only saved a few of my original spoken and ‘unspoken’ poetry pieces. This is one of them. Thanks to my phone.

I wrote this a few weeks before ‘his’ birthday. I was supposed to perform this on stage and or put it online but I lost my nerve. With everything that came up after, I decided to move this to trash. Yet, as I read and recite this piece again and again, I realized it was then a premonition or something.

Nevertheless, I’m deeply heartbroken at the loss of my hard drive (which was converted to an external device, FYI) and thought that the person who took it might have stumbled upon my literary and music pieces. Mahirap na. It would be plagiarism on that person’s part and fiasco on mine. I wrote this with my heart and I couldn’t afford some thieving monkey getting the credit.




Another Bite of Reality

I went inside a room where people from our community gathered for a reason I was yet to know. Two different groups were even practicing their cheer dance and one of them was even screaming, “B!” I have no idea what it meant. Just Beeeeeeeee.

Then I saw some people lying on the floor chatting, sleeping and taking a rest with one another. I saw him on the far edge of a bed I was next to.

At first, I couldn’t recognize who he was lying next to. I looked around and saw his friend who, in real life, used to carry a pink Jansport bag and has a hair she loves to dye.

As I come to my senses, I looked back at him, realizing what her presence meant. Lo and behold, the hair-dyer girl’s friend was lying beside him. I suddenly had the urge to come up to him and slap him. Instead, I muster all the patience and courage I had and walked up to him asking straight, “Are you and her -” pertaining to the girl beside her “-already together?” He grinned proudly and said, “Yes.”

I was on the verge of crying. I looked at the girl who was busy chatting with another person beside her and saw that she was wearing a gold band around one of her fingers. I looked back at him and asked, “Why? Why is it that when it was me you were with, you said it’s not yet the right time? [But after just three months of saying things like you still loved me] Why is it that when it was her, it was okay with you even if you broke a lot of rules?”

He just grinned triumphantly that turned into a faint laugh. He made me realize what it all meant. I was not a trophy girlfriend like the one who he is with now. I was not worth fighting for. The other girl was more beautiful and presentable and more dependent on him than I am.

I woke up.

In the wee hours of the morning, I woke up from a dreadful dream I consider as a reality. In my dream, I finally got the answer from the one thing I wanted to ask from him. And I felt more dreadful than ever. But I couldn’t erase the fact that the past is still haunting me.

At least, in my dream, he has the guts to face me and tell the truth.

“Humanap ka ng pangit at ibigin mong tunay.” (Find an ugly person and love him truly.)

A rapper once said, “Humanap ka ng pangit at ibigin mong tunay (Find an ugly person and love that person truly).” The idea was because he thought that ugly people love truer than the ones with good looks.

I met you. I loved you. I trusted you. I adored you.

You broke my heart.

Conclusion: Even the ugly ones (some of them) like you are not trustworthy.  You’re just ugly inside out and I attest to that. You are the ugliest person I have ever met and I am not even talking about looks here.


Tula No. Something Something

Kung dati ay kinikilig ako sa tuwing nakakarinig ako ng love song,

Ngayon ay madali akong mainis

Oo, bitter ako, pero hindi maikakailang nasasaktan rin kasi ako.


Ang sakit-sakit.

Ang sakit kayang maiwan ng taong mahal mo.

Ang sakit kayang malamang pinapaasa ka lang niya na babalik pa siya sa iyo.

Ang sakit malamang may iba na siya habang naghihintay ka.

Habang hinihintay mo siyang bumalik sa’yo.

Dahil iyon ang sinabi niya,

“Babalik ako.”

Ang sakit ring marinig sa ibang tao na ang laki mong tanga,

Na kasalanan mo pa ang lahat ng nangyayari sa’yo.

Ang sakit malamang kasama niyang naglaho ang mga akala mong kaibigan mo.

Ang sakit masisi sa isang bagay na hindi mo naman ginawa.

Ang sakit masising ikaw ang idinidiin sa kasalanang siya ang nag-umpisa.

Ang sakit maramdamang hindi pantay ang pagtingin ng mundo sa mga taong nasasaktan at naiiwan.

Ang sakit madamang ako na nga ang nasaktan, ako pa ang may kasalanan.


Kaya hindi niyo ako masisisi kung hindi ko nais marinig ang mga kantang iyan.

Lalo na siguro ‘yung kay Ed Sheeran.


Oo, bitter ako, dahil hindi ko kinakailang nasasaktan ako.

Nadudurog ang aking puso, natutunaw ang aking isipan, nanghihina ang aking katawan.

Sa tuwing maririnig ko ang mga naglipanang kundiman.


My (less than) 10-minute poem for the day. Isinulat ko nga pala habang nagpapatugtog sila ng Ed Sheeran song sa “Benshoppe.”