at 5 y/o,
i learnt that
no one belongs to anyone.
i tried to hug you in your
blue shirt;
i said i would call you mine
forever. but, you
still left
that little town we called
home.
when you left, you
looked back twice (no
more no less).
not hurting in
3,
2,
1.
It’s okay to hate yourself. I’ve come to realize this after a while of living– it helps you deal when others begin to do the same.
–
I write pretty words to make people think that I have pretty thoughts.
I just want to get through the day.
–
Do dark eyes shine in bright lights?
June 30, 2017
home hands hello’s wholeness
eternity earls
entities i’s
involvement cries commitment
candids desire dances
dwelling gods gold gowns
reality roots tomorrow’s
touches tone tear tongue
teen(spirit) sound souls
songs scent cigarettes scintillation
nights nobody knowing
wakings
us
good bye’s
June 28, 2017
On the morning of my wedding, I was told that my wife would one day cheat on me. I laughed when it happened.
I remember that I was in front of the door to the wedding hall, waiting for guests to fill up the room, when a little girl (around four years old, dressed in a hideous shade of magenta), came to me and pulled at my sleeves. She told me to bend down. So, I did. She cupped her hands around her tiny mouth and whispered into my ear.
“I think that she’ll find a new prince one day. Don’t you agree?”
She pointed at my wife and looked back at me. I looked at her. I remember thinking about how modern parenting has failed. All the trash TV shows and cartoons that these kids watch is what is leading to all this “prince and princess” romance bullshit. One day, they’ll realize that marriage is really nothing but a social necessity. So I carried on with the rest of my day. I waited as my father-in-law led my wife down the hall. I remember putting the ring on her finger and kissing her, thinking that I, though not the luckiest man in the world, was happy enough. I talked to some guests, had a bit too much champagne, made a fool of myself on the dance floor— you know, all the typical things.
I don’t know why, but despite the absurdity of things, I still couldn’t help but recall how the pink girl at the wedding dared to mark my fate with her words. It wasn’t really what she said that bothered me. That was irrelevant. What struck me was my nonchalance to her words. I think that I was supposed to feel something, be it anger, sadness, or disbelief. This dawned on me for days. My apathy towards the “prophecy” began to expand and characterize itself in other parts of my life.
Things happened in the following months. I was cut from my job because the company I worked for went bankrupt. I didn’t tell her though. I would leave the house at seven in the morning and return home at far later hours. I didn’t think she would want to know about my new state of unemployment. I was felt uncomfortable to stay home with her all day. I guess I lied and isolated myself from the good of the both of us.
We continued living like this for another year. I got myself a part time job cleaning and serving at a bar. I earned enough to get us by. She never complained though. It was strange how she chose to remain with me even after how I have managed to fuck up my jobs. Every time I see her at home, she would smile at me faintly— as if looking at a lost lover.
One day after work, I decided to stay at the bar for a couple of drinks. I forgot to call home that night. Half intoxicated, I arrived home at half past three. To my surprise, she was waiting up for me. I expected her to be mad. I expected her to yell at me. But when she saw me walk into the room, all she did was tell me to get some rest. When I heard her say this, something in me snapped. The kid was right. My wife didn’t care anymore. There can only be one way to explain how she has managed to put up with an unsuccessful and useless man life me.
As messed up as it sounds, I still imagine her there with me when I stayed out with other women. I disgusted myself. I told myself that this was meant to happen anyways. When a woman from a high standing family marries you, you realize that you will never be enough for, no matter how hard you try. As I think back on it, I realize that I would really like the girl for telling me what she did. If I hadn’t known, I would probably have been heartbroken if I found out she cheated on me . It was just a matter of time. Instead, by knowing the truth, I could at least fulfill what was missing from my life, from my marriage.
She wasn’t surprised when I brought her the divorce papers. She told me she knew. I told her I did too.
“I still remember the day we got married. He was happy, I think. I don’t know what happened. I still loved him. I guess he decided he didn’t anymore. I laughed when he told me he ‘knew’ that I would have left. He didn’t know shit. I loved him. He didn’t. It’s that simple”
June 27, 2017
i closed my eyes at the words unspoken because i know that if i open
them, i would never dare rest them again– back into the
depth of the cover you tried to feed into me.
so instead, i gazed deeper into the darkness of my eyes unopened,
comforted by the ignorance that i sought because not knowing
is the way to pretend that all knowing is good and all promises
are endless (like the late night texts that once came and overflowed like the water that is nearing the edge of the bathtub that i now surrounds me and
the remnants of the our summer from what seemed like a lifetime
ago). so baby, i will breathe from the space that we once shared in the
sacred sovereign source of all things safe in the sound security that i was told souls are supposed to seek.
do you see? do i
see?
June 26, 2017
don’t cut your hands on the broken
pieces of him.
people have to stop bleeding at some
point (or so i was
told).
maybe
you know nothing now, but
the knowing you had on high skies can never last forever; come
down sometimes.
walk on solid ground?
June 25, 2017
it was a shame
how
her brushstrokes weren’t enough to portray even
a fraction of your being
June 24, 2017
i thought that i
looked good on
you, so i held on for the
comfort of
aesthetics.
we were the most beautiful mess
i knew, but
maybe–
June 23, 2017
You used to like waiting in traffic. Street lights at 11 pm were peaceful. Time passed a bit slower. You could see moving blocks of people– slowly moving blocks of lives. It was quiet. Tranquil.
Now, just weeks after, the silence is too much. You see other people living when you’ve stopped. You are forced to think, make decisions, play the games of your mind and heart’s conspirations. And you wonder if things could be simpler. You wonder if you are the same person in the same body living the same life you once knew. You see all the places you could be going, all the lives you could be living. The car’s now too small for comfort. The peace suffocates you.
But in the pm night lights, you come to terms to all the possibilities that you’ve stopped being a part of.
ink by gin 