Betrayal

Nothing but a Fable

Happily ever after doesn’t exist.

Not when people like you also exist.

I bought myself a new suit of armor so you don’t drive another knife in my back.

I told the vendor to hold the stallion because human legs were never for aesthetic purposes.

 

I wanted to walk the face of the Earth with you using my own.

We would’ve walked more than a thousand miles together to chase the sun and avoid the night.

And I never needed to worry about my tired legs.

They built up a tolerance from walking in the coastal sand and helping me keep up with dirty dishes.

 

I told you about my demons and how quickly I am to care when I’m shown an act of kindness.

Mother always lectured me that no matter how small they may be, they are never in vain.

But there is such a thing as being too kind. There is such a thing as temptation.

The best of us cave in once, twice, or maybe more than that when we write in our diaries.

 

You were like such a book to me and I trusted you, but never did I expect that you’d defile my soul

By persuading me to partake in activities that I would never in my right mind do.

I should have recalled the fable of a girl who trusted a poltergeist that haunted a similar diary.

Had I not flee the moment I saw your true character, I would have joined her in death.

 

Looking back, I understand that diaries are the keys to starting fires and turning innocents into fugitives.

You can try with all your might to pry my mouth open to get me to spill any more beans

But my lips are staying sealed because I know who you really are and I finally learned my lesson.

You never exposed me. You only leaked a chapter that was part of a book you never read.

 

So why bother showing it to you knowing that my real friends and family will be endangered as well?

I know that a deluded man gambled away so much ammo to the vipers that he became a trainwreck.

I swear on my recurring nightmares that any answers to your questions will be used against me.

Truth and justice is a concept invented by people and after all, people do make mistakes.

 

God bless the right to remain silent.

Because even the condemned understand that its value supersedes a vault of gold

That the draconian blackjack dealers steal from the poor that desire to play with them.

Where was Robin Hood when I needed him most?

 

Flash forward to a single year and I’m now twenty-five with an art degree in hand.

I’ve spent all that time studying my ass off and avoiding the vipers that plague my past.

I was with my true friends who never give a shit about your deceit when I realized I never needed you.

Preparing for financial exams under the tutelage of a bright mathematician was like you never existed.

 

So the next time you see me, I won’t grovel on the pavement begging you to take me back.

Instead, I’ll look the other way and French kiss my new admirer in front of you.

Just to let you know that I changed for the better and you missed out on the life we could’ve had.

I am fortunate to understand that your absence last summer turned out to be a blessing in disguise.

 

I dare you to call me an idiot again!

I dare you to call me a chicken!

I dare you to say that I’m going down

While you hide behind the blackjack dealers that love you for show!

 

There’s always someone out there willing to give you a taste of your own medicine anyway.

How did it feel when even Discordia didn’t want anything to do with you?

Was it salty and sour like your attitude and your deceit?

Cavities caused by the consumption of these candies are a pain for dentists to fill.

 

And just like that, you disappeared from the face of the Earth again. Hopefully, for good this time.

You can erase your identity from the world, but you cannot erase the marks your venom left behind.

You may still be on my mind from time to time, but I don’t see you in a virtuous light anymore.

You are nothing but a fable.

Faith is a strange thing...


although

doubt still

controls and betrays

faith stands strong

as we sway

I've been loving on it

for several years

and living

 as I count the ways

of blessings

My Five Day Hallucination

It was Day 1 when it was scorching hot and we crossed paths.

I was looking for an oasis to drink from,

Though a hug from you was a thousand times better

Because afterwards, we went swimming in the lake and laughed at the gold diggers passing by.

Poor men were oblivious that they mined their last nugget in this desert.

 

It was Day 2 when we continued our journey.

You introduced me to your bitches when you brought me home.

One licked me silly while the second took a while to come around.

It was only trying to judge me to see if I would be a menace to your family.

I’ve always liked the playful, funny, and carefree breeds.

 

It was Day 3 when you showed me your larger-than-life garden.

You spoke of how your brother and mother had toiled day and night tending to it.

The garden was shaped like the number 5 and I couldn’t be happier.

You regaled me with stories of an ancient civilization that once existed in this land of the dead.

Every word from your tongue between breaths was like a missing page in a book lost in time.

 

It was Day 4 when I crawled on my knees after a beating from a two-faced sergeant

Looking for you so you could lift me back on my two feet and hold me close

But to add insult to injury, you held your scorn like you should’ve held my hands.

So I passed out on the floor and was left for dead out in the open.

How do indecisive weeds like you sleep at night?

 

It was Day 5 when I woke up expecting you’d be there, but your home was empty.

Your garden was withered and the magic was gone so it turns out that it was all a mirage.

You can rationalize your actions and demonize me any way you like,

But when you save your second thoughts for one minute before midnight,

It’s goodbye and good riddance to you weeds.

 

So I left. It was better for me to abandon you before you inevitably did the same.

The world is full of snakes and trojans as it is.

It’s best for me to give them a dose of their own venom as soon as I see right through them.

 

You should’ve told me earlier rather than at the last minute.

Or when I have fallen and can’t get up.

Then maybe we could’ve still been friends.

But now you’re just another silhouette that shears hearts like hedges.

 

If you’re looking to post an ad requesting company in a moment of loneliness,

Think again before you shatter another heart or wager your sanity.

A weed ain’t cut out for love, let alone a friendship

If it can’t make up its mind and let its loneliness fog its judgment.

Poor guy should’ve inspected the thorns before he picked the rose.

 

Now it’s my turn to wager a few things,

I bet you don’t even miss me.

I bet you feigned regret that you added salt in the wound.

I bet that you’ll forget all about me after the weekend I disappeared.

I bet you’ll cower in the arms of the two bitches you value most in life.

I bet you’ll start looking for another soul that you’ll pray to Aphrodite you won’t screw over.

Whatever happens to you, I am grateful that I have kin to keep tight

And an adventure I continue to embark on in the desert with or without you there for me.

You’re just another silhouette that shears hearts like hedges.

Why

Eyes are swollen

Mouth is dry 

My beating heart has stopped for the last time.

 

Why You?

Why Me?

Why Us?

What did we do?

 

 

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The Birth and Flight of a Phoenix

The storm has settled after a long summer.

The skies are clear, but the damage has been done.

I am charred, left abandoned in the ashes.

The humiliation during the wildfire led to my death.

The world I knew and loved disowned me.

 

But a baby bird had risen out of the ashes.

Despite its weak body, the newborn helped me onto my feet.

It led me away to start anew in a foreign world.

After all that had happened that led to this fire,

I know now that my old name is nothing but a memory

Left to be scorned by bloodthirsty eels.

 

Be free, young phoenix. Fly away and keep your voice close.

They'll be coming for you when they discover you're still alive.

It is better to let them think that you are dead

than attempt to kill yourself putting up a fruitless fight.

 

They can deceive the world all they like, but karma has its ways.

They will always be overshadowed by a much more unified flock.

But for now, I walk alone with no one but the baby bird perched on my shoulder.

I see a bit of my old life in it, but it possesses the need to change;

A quality that the world I left behind is too blind to see.

 

Be free, young phoenix. Fly away and keep your voice close.

They'll be coming for you when they discover you're still alive.

It is better to let them think that you are dead

than attempt to kill yourself putting up a fruitless fight.

 

By the time the bloodthirsty eels see me again, it will already be too late.

Their lack of intelligence is what I have to thank for getting me to where

I am needed most the whole time I have slaved away.

Too bad that they'll never know that I am not the poor unfortunate soul that I used to be.

 

The winter has arrived and the joys of Christmas Day have given the baby bird strength

To regain the fire that I have long-admired since I was no less than eight years of age.

The new year is around the corner and it is more than ready to spread its wings and fly

Like it did four years ago. It amazes me to see how kids grow up so fast.

 

Be free, young phoenix. Fly away and keep your voice close.

They'll be coming for you when they discover you're still alive.

It is better to let them think that you are dead

than attempt to kill yourself putting up a fruitless fight.

 

It is no longer our battle anyway for our destiny lies far away from this mom-and-pop.

Loneliness

Loneliness is being in the room with your love,

And realizing that there is no love in the room.

 

Loneliness is having a nightmare in bed,

And rolling over to realize that the dream was warmer than real life.

 

When I needed you

You weren't there

When I had to trust you

You broke my trust

When I held you up

You knocked me down

When I gave you everything

You took it all away

 

Loneliness is wanting to be understood,

But realizing that no-one else

Has the time or patience to discover

Who you really are

You

You were the sin after my heart,

I was the rescue to your soul. 

Mend the kinks I've repressed

and bring truth from past haunts. 

When does it end? 

The suffering that tries to besiege me.

Or is it but a shadow hovering my existence;

meshing plagues. 

Show yourself to spill secrets in whispers,

as the echoes will chime distant cries.

Should you mold me out of clay, 

it should become your cursed delusion.

Now let your naked eyes mend fragility,

from the pieces of blind thoughts. 

Should I walk you home again,

let it be a desolate map scratched with black and white. 

 

 

T.R.O.Y. (The Ruins Of You)

Folder: 
Confessions

I stand in the ruins of you
carrying the casket
of the memories of us
Once, 
a cradle of holy affection and love.
Here lie the shattered 8 months
of unison prayers, 
jeepney banters,
subtle, orgasmic whispers,
the euphoria of meeting your mother,
and the dreams we built 
on midnight kisses and sacred moans.

The pen you gave me
still holds
its allegiance to you
refusing to spill its ink
thriving on its own will
I grapple it by its neck
and watch it slowly faint.

Lonely hearts from the start,
we relished the thought of a lasting love.
Two candles burn
when two lovers pray.
On our very first date,
I cursed on how you made me wait.
On our very last day,
I prayed that He would make you stay.
People say first impressions last
But you had me only at second glance.

Sober fools in a clandestine night
we laughed and walked for hours and miles
You, holding my bag
Me, holding your hand.
This was before his ghost haunted you
again
alive and well.
This was before in between hours,
you’d forget my whispers
and long for his.
This was before your friend 
called me to say,
“Just let him go. Love is not supposed
to work this way.”

The dark clouds came
and never left.

I stand in the ruins of you,
claws clutching to the ground,
eyes beaten and tired,
feet still shackled 
with the ropes you gave me last June
and every inch of them is an untold story
and each story is a blow to my head.
Love is but a slowly unfolding agony.
Knot
after
knot,
I untangle these shackles I tied myself to.
Knot
after
knot,
I begin to remember 
the life I built around you and me,
the dreamy kisses,
the day I met your friends and family,
the night I got so drunk
you had to forget our fight
to come and get me,
the night you got so drunk
you had to forget our fight
to say you still love me.
But the high wasn’t worth the agony
of knowing that at my lowest point,
confined in a hospital,
covered with punctures,
you successfully abandoned me;
of carrying a bleeding heart every day
and hoping it won't leak;
of feeling the sands of time slip
away from your grasp,
along with all your hope and chance;
of finally choosing to live through hell
hoping that your lover would remember
the warmth of an earthly heaven
you built for yourselves and once lived in.
of knowing that the memory of us
would later turn to dust
and I am to collect them
with bare hands.
Knot
after
knot,
The walls of this temple begin to shatter
I am no longer your prisoner.
I stand in the ruins of you,
claws clutching
on crumpled bed sheets,
rubbles of your promises,
residues of your gifts,
pictures torn to pieces, 
my handwritten notes
a hundred poems, 
a thousand letters
and the ashes of our bodies.
I spread my wings 
and begin to rise
and look up for the clouds
The dark clouds that came
never left.
But I am.
•••

Author's Notes/Comments: 

A poem about moving on.

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Rebirth

Folder: 
Confessions

“Who is he?”

I whisper to myself

as your eyes gaze off to the distance

and treat me with the unbearable silence

I’m a little too late, I guess,

I hear your eyes scream, they confess

It is him who holds your heart

The one you’d rather hold your hand

Under the city lights

In a cold November night

 

But my love for you is greater than his.

 

So do the honor and list down the things

you so liked about him

Watch me burn myself with a pile of leaves

and reborn as him

Just let me be your light, your candle tonight

I can be him, your lover, if you like

I’ll cut my wrist, drain the blood my ancestors

passed on to me

Replace it with the words he whispers

when I’m not around

Let his words flow down my veins so you may speak

and tell me all the things you never say to me

Slit my throat with the screen of the phone you use

To capture his face, his smile, the perfection, your muse

Because you never even once

took a picture of me

— or maybe my image is just

too hideous for you to keep?

What strength of lens does he use, you say?

I can smash mine down if it’s not the same

Use the shards to peel off my skin I so badly hate

Blessed is he to have the kind that keeps you sane

I’ll unclench my claws I’ve spent years to build

Pull them out and mold me his hands and feet

Let the blood spritz all over the room

Let them spell: HERE LIES A HOLY FOOL,

WHO SURRENDERED HIMSELF FOR LOVE —

BECAUSE HIS LOVE WAS NEVER ENOUGH.

Tell my mother I died a sweetest death

And I’ll be waiting in line in the Day of Resurrect

Pour out the gasoline all over my corpse for the final touch

Say a short Ignatian prayer before you strike the match

Watch my skin; watch my veins turn to ash, turn to dust,

as I’m enveloped and swallowed by flames

‘Cause I’m tired of fighting, I’m tired of asking,

“Who is Carl, baby? I’m James.”

 

From now on, call me Carl.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

A poem about wanting and loving someone so much you are willing to turn yourself into someone else.