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.




A February Thought

Disclaimer: The day (or night) this thought was processed is uncertain – hence, the title. Do not assume otherwise.

So, I’m back in my little cocoon, just processing ideas and such. Then my mind stumbled upon a memory that made me certain about one thing. In the middle of the time when I and a friend parted ways, it suddenly occurred to me that I have a mistake that caused the demise of our friendship in the long run. At that moment, it was made clear to me that between the two of us – me and my old friend – I was the one who lost hope first.

I was deeply hurt that something unbearable happened between the two of us. And that awful pain struck me so hard that I forgot to take care of what was left. In all fairness to that person, the person tried such best to revive the dying relationship we had. During those times, it didn’t matter to me.

I was a selfish person to begin with – only caring about myself and what I feel. Aside from that, I was a pessimist, I tend to see only the bad things that are happening and anticipate what is worse and just go with it. I was a prideful person, too – trying hard to stay in my own shell when someone hurt me so bad and lock myself away from that someone. Above all, I lost hope – there were countless opportunities but the hurt continues to obstruct my eyes in seeing that there is, indeed, hope.

I was the first to lose hope. Admitting it was the even more hurtful part. Subconsciously, I didn’t want to admit that I took part in the downfall of our relationship. Just like what I said, I am truly prideful.

So, recently, it dawned on me that I let those opportunities slip from hand because I was busy noticing the plug from eyes and the hurt from my heart. I was busy growing a tree full of resentment and bitterness in my backyard and the fruits of this tree came abundantly in all seasons that it was already impossible to clean my on off of them.

Slowly and bitterly, the friendship died. It died in vain. All the memories died with it, too. In the past year, I continuously put the blame on the other person not realizing that I was the first one who gave the friendship up. Countless times I asked myself, “Why do I feel so bad?” Then, sure enough, as much as I haven’t forgiven that person, I haven’t forgiven myself, too. Likewise, I am uncertain if that person has already forgiven me for giving up first and putting all the blame on that person.

In the end, I learned to humble myself and accept the fact that I did something wrong, too. That no matter how grave that person’s error is, it didn’t mean that I have no fault myself. Not only was I liable for the destruction of our once-colorful friendship, but I was the one who terminated it first. As if, the person didn’t do any good. Truth is, that person is supposedly one of the best friends I ever had. That person loved me for who I was – selfish, pessimist, prideful and hopeless.

After bearing my mistake, I learned to ask forgiveness from myself. Then, of course, I forgave myself because I thought I might have put the burden to myself too much. I asked forgiveness from myself, too, because I knew I was liable for the ache I feel for losing a precious person. For a long while, I couldn’t see any hope to forgive that person for hurting me. However, due to this realization, it became easier to me to accept what happened to our friendship. Consequently, I’m learning to forgive that person as well – bit by bit.

We may not be able to get back what we have lost – after all, we’re already on our separate ways and there is a big possibility that our paths might not cross again – but the lesson I learned due to our partings gave me a notion that I should take care of few the friendships I still have with the few friends left with me. They’re the only ones I’ve got and I have learned the hard way not to take them for granted. In the same way, this lesson is something I can take as I build more friendships in the future.

A Shooting Star

A serendipitous tale once transpired

A lone wolf surrounded by extreme coldness;

A bright shooting star eventually chanced upon.


Charred the ice was

When hands held tight

A sudden gush flowed through their eyes


‘T’was an unremarkable picture

Of a mysterious wish

Agreed to be with one another


“Truly glad I am, to finally meet someone,

So tender and kind, cool in the midst of gloom,

Life’s stiffness unbent by a feathery stroke.”


The once lone wolf answered in a blush,

“Though thine fire was brought to soothe

Mine’s bitterness and angst.”


Yet, the light the star emanates

Didn’t promise a constant state

Of compassion and hopeful fate.


Though the light shines,

The fire engulfs without gaps

Charred not only the ice but the radiance.


How such lovely scene turned into dust?

The two hands break, they must

Memories – good and bad – created ash.


An inconsolable grief thrashed the night

Full of supposed warmth

From two people breathing almost as one.


What if the only way

to forgive such past

Is to get even with the one who passed?