Ours

Ours is a love the world don’t need to see.

It does not need its validation from people we barely know 

It does not need photographs of our travels, for we enjoy the view and each other’s presence better than we do sharing them.

It does not need to shout “I love you,” it whispers, “I am always here” through the cold, silent night.


Ours is a love the world don’t deserve to see.

It does not deserve the sparkle we kindle in our hearts for all it knows is a love that burns.

It does not deserve the faith we have towards each other.

It does not deserve to know the happiness we have, that which we may never find again.


Ours is a love the world don’t need to understand.

It does not need to measure the depth for we know in truth, that we cannot measure what we cannot touch and see.

It does not need to know why we hold on to this once in a lifetime love.

It does not need to understand how we found each other, that we’ve searched the world for far long; that we were just beside each other all along.

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I Cannot Write

No.

Only two words broke my heart,

And it only took you a few seconds

To say it, said it twice

And made my world spin around

Never knowing when to stop, to tell

My heart you made the wrong decision.

And this odd, sloppy piece tells me

I cannot write you anymore,

I cannot love you anymore,

And I thought we were so close,

Almost. 

But it was all just in my head.

There are moments when you

stop believing in magic, and

fairy tales are but stories

that left you hanging on to

empty hopes, with your eyes welling with tears.

 

There are moments when you

shut your door to every smile, that

no matter how much you wanted

to rip his heart open to let yourself

in, yours is just too scattered into pieces.

 

There are moments when you

want to bury your cliche heart, inside

a hollow box, leave it there to

keep it from strangers ever touching

it again; you fear the cycle.

 

But then he walks in with his

smile so bright, it lights up the whole

sky of your once gloomy world

and touched your your lips with his, and

you hear your heart whisper from

the box underneath your bed

“Where have you been all along?”

and then now;

 

There are moments when you

could feel his skin warm yours, and

it makes you wonder what skin

felt like before–before he touched

your sweaty palms and you felt safe.

 

There are moments when you

stare blankly into space, and

realized how empty life was before this

moment, you just want to replay

every memory again and again.

 

There are moments when you

feel life giving you a second shot at

happiness, and you want to bask in all

of it, your heart is full, and

you hope he knows the truth.

 

Because he walked in with his heart

whole, and you could not wait to

pour him all the love you couldn’t

afford to give before; and your eyes

glimmer in his presence, and you just know

that what you call moments

will never be the same again.

When Our Hands Are Intertwined

When our hands are intertwined,

The whole world disappears

And we are wrapped in a bubble where

All I could hear is the sound of our laughters.

When our hands are intertwined,

The sea of people spin around in a shapeless pattern,

You and I fit in a perfect space as if

Built for only the two of us.

When our hands are intertwined,

I have little care about time,

For there is no need to hurry when you and I

Are together; when US is all I need.

When our hands are intertwined, 

For a moment, I forget all the weight of the world

And everything seems brighter; in your eyes,

Every question has an answer.

When our hands are intertwined,

My poetry doesn’t need rhyme nor rhythm,

There really is no need for pattern nor structure.

Everything falls right into place,

When our hands are intertwined.

Confession

I am never good at confrontations. Whenever I feel something for people, I would rather have my actions do the talking. When asked about my feelings towards certain things or people, I freeze and search for words in my head that would come close to describe how I feel. It’s like fumbling through my messy bag looking for keys; it’s always awkward, and I never get the right words to say.

And so I write. I write all the descriptions of every broken piece of my heart, I lay them on paper one by one, like things on my bookshelf, neatly lined up. I write every unheard emotion I have towards all the broken promises that scarred me and the people who made me believe that they are worth my time. I write all the mangled memories I have of past lovers, or those I have loved but did not know it for I cannot bring myself to say the right words.

But tonight, I took my heart and held it on my hands, saying, “here, take it if you must. I only want to know if you want it and will take care of it.” You uttered a faint “yes,” and I heard the blood rushing through my vains louder than your stammer.

There is one poet who wrote, “and in your hesitation, I found my answer.”

Perhaps, that is what I know now. You may have said yes, but your eyes tell me otherwise.

Tonight, I laid my ace on the table, but I lost my stakes. I smiled and told you I just wanted to know if we were on the same page; but now I know I have to start closing the book. Ours is a story that never will be, and only the memories I have of what I thought we had will remain like a palimpsest, with almost indistinct prints. 

And tonight, my heart aches for what I thought was beautiful. I went out on a limb and did the one thing I knew I have always been afraid of doing, and here I am trying to figure out if I have done the right thing.