Minute

At 5:59 AM, she's awake

staring at the ceiling

for 8 hours straight

wondering;

how sleep failed her

to temporarily take her away

from the all the demons

that's surrounding her;

how fast-paced life is

from four to three

maybe it's supposed to be;

how black and sadness

are the triggers

to sad poetry;

how indecisive a man is

to let go of what's essential

and keep what's not worthwhile

That one minute left

before six o'clock;

She decided to give up

because in order to win big battles,

you must have to lose small ones

- koralike

(Feb. 19, 2016, 6 AM)

11:50 PM

An hour ago, he left

without telling her why

leaving trails of shattered hearts

and reopened scars

Half an hour ago, she's left confused

to walk away or try harder

because he failed to prove her

that forever exists

At 11:00, she finally realized

that the heartbreaks from the flowerboy

that she admired for four years

is nothing compared

to what happened tonight

11:05 PM, she's stuck in between

having a strong mind

and a fragile heart

that made her lost soul

broken for once more

At 11:15 PM, she can't believe

having no boyfriend would still hurt

not because of young lads

but about her Dad

responsible for her first heartbreak

11:30 PM, she's chaotic;

wondering if she, still,

can trust boys

or forever shut the doors

At 11:40 PM, she's a mess

if her King will come back

for even if he left her princess

she would still wait

for the King's return

hoping that even he failed

to prove the existence of forever

he'll turn "Happily Ever After"

to reality

11:50, she's weary

she'll try to sleep

because tonight,

the world has ended for her

and will start again

in the morning

- koralike
(Feb. 18, 2016, 11:50 PM)

words by pauline bactad

 

words: jeselle tarin

edits: mine

pcr. owners

Alaala x Pusong Ligaw

Snapshots of the Past

     Everytime I hear his name, his wide smile fills up my mind. His sparkling eyes that stares at me gives me chills. I like his boisterous laugh where you can see his hundred teeth that you even need to wear sunglasses so your eyes wouldn't be hurt. His weird voice that makes my heart skip a beat everytime he sings (especially when he knows that he's out of tune), his jokes that makes me laugh even though it's not funny. He goes there beside me, just staring on what am I doing. He even threw me pick-up lines that makes me blush. He's so good to me whenever I feel nobody does. He's the only who cares for me when no one did. I like everything he does, I like what's in him. I LIKE HIM.


     He cheered me up when I was down. He treated me like a princess. He let me feel special even in a short time. Questions are conquering my mind again...


Is he the one for me?
Will I experience what my friends does?
Can I relate myself to them more?
@koralike_ | kairms.blogspot.com

     I left them unanswered. I want HIM to answer it for me.


"Yes, I am the one for you. The one you've been waiting for so many years. Yes darling, we'll experience what they are doing but we'll do it more better than them. You'll relate yourself to them more for we'll be making our very own love story that will be written in the history."


     Of course, I am daydreaming! Probably, it may happen on some books, but never in the reality. I'm used to it, to be hurt. Three rejections. Three big rejections that almost ruined my life. When I attempted at my first, I stopped myself for I am too young. The second one, he doesn't like me, but my best friend, he does. The third one... he ignores me and he really torn my heart. In this fourth attempt, I wish he'll never break it for it took me years to heal it...


     Oh! He's my source of joy. I don't know why, but I'm extremely happy when I'm with him. He's the one who usually wipes my tears; he gives me his words of wisdom. He always wanted to reach out for me that makes me feel that I'm special to him. He said that he's happy with me. Is it? Am I special to him? I hope so...


     But the only permanent in this world is change.


     After one month of sweetness, everything is just a memory now. His sweetness turned into bitterness. I can still hear his sweet lines, but that's not for me anymore, but into somebody else. He's the one who wipes my tears but now, he's the reason behind it. I see him happy, but I really hope that I'm still the one, the one behind his smiles, but definitely not. He found someone better than me! He sees that I don't care, but deep inside myself, I'm holding back my tears. I'm breaking inside. I thought he's the one. He helped me to move on for my third attempt. He told me that he's happy with me. I thought there's a SPARK between us, but I think, I'm the only one who feels it. We used to do what we usually do everytime we're together, but now, he's doing it with someone else.


     Hey, I'm sorry! I was serious on what we we're doing, but it was just a fling for you. Yes, a fling. All this time. I thought there was something, but there's none. I thought you're the heaven's sent for my agonizing heart, but no. You weren't. Everything was scripted; you manipulated me, gave me false hopes... how dare you to play with my heart... Well I'm moving on for I am tired of this. Fourth attempt, failed. No, I won't stop loving for the sake of loving me back. I will come back stronger... and thank you for the memories, it's just a snapshot of the past now.

Let You Go

                   

          At first, I did what I think that's right.... to let you go. To avoid you. To forget you because it's like you're telling me that it's for the better even though you didn't approach me or anything. Maybe because that's the only way to move on. I did it. I did what you wanted me to do. But at least once, have you ever asked yourself if I liked what  I did? 

          Sometimes, I don't know why does my heart keeps on fooling around even though it knows it hurts. Don't you know that while I'm following what my mind says, my heart shouts "Can't you just hold on a little bit longer?"

          Sweet. But deep inside, while I'm following my head like a robot that everything it commands, I kept following, my tears are dropping a little bit and my heart do break into tiny pieces. Bits. I keep on asking myself, "I didn't give up but you already did. Why is it like that?!"

          But they say that "There's no perfect love. Everything should face struggles. If you get tired or refuse, just let it rest and it'll come back again." I look forward that it may happen. But it didn't. Even though I doubled my effort. tripled it too I guess... but I waited for nothing. I was so sincere when I expressed my feelings for that letter but you ended it up being a joke. It's so damn hard to bring back those days when we're still talking to each other and we do some stuffs together. I'm so sorry. It was my fault too. I shouldn't expect too much. I should've hold on. I shouldn't let you go. I shouldn't forget you and kept still. I should've fight for you for that you may fight for me as well... I-I kinda like you that time... I shouldn't let you go.

                               

Loss: To Feel or Not To Feel

               

     My memories come as isolated snapshots now, a kaleidoscope of colorful fragments that somehow add up to a MAN I once called MINE. I accept the loss in stages, quietly closing one door and moving on to the next. Healing is a process, gradual and slow.
www.iamsuperkyla.blogspot.com / SuperKyla :3
     How do I keep this from being a life long lesson? How do I keep it an isolated incident something so over aching, so devastating, so pervasive in my life still? How do I keep from being crippled by it? The answer, I believe... If there is such a thing as a concise answer to such questions is to slowly learn to live with the loss and not under it, to let it become a companion rather that a guide. I won't say this is easy; I know how hard it can be. But I also know it can be done, and I know the comfort that comes from hearing how other coped with similar challenges and fears. It'a like a loud sound in an empty house, it echoes on and on. The sounds of silence left to echo without response, become more haunting than the actual words. 

     This time, though the pain refused to stay underground. As the initial shock of separation wore off, I began to cry with a ferocity that, quiet literally, one night brought me to my knees. It didn't matter that I was the one who walked away; I still felt abandoned and completely alone. 

     It hurts me more than I can express to hear he's still hurt. He asked me, "How are you?". After a pause, I said I'm doing fine. I asks how he's been, and he says "Fine". Another pause, and then we say goodbye. 

     I remember what he gave, what he made, what he did. What we were to each other, what he taught me, what I learned at him. That he made things, that he made words, that he fed me with so much love. Where he had dreamed of going, what our first words were and how he had quarreled with me. 

     I am fooling myself when I say he exists now only in the photograph or in the outline of my hand or in the armful of memories I still hold tight. He lives on beneath everything I do. His presence influenced who I was, and his absence influence who I am. Our lives are shaped as much by those who leave us as they are by those who stay. Insight is our gift. Memory is our guide. Loss is our legacy.