Charred CoalTatlong oras nang nag-iisip, nakatunganga,Nakatingin sa isang blangkong papel.Upos lang ng sigarilyo ang katabi,Nagmumunimuni sa madilim na gabi.Tunog lang ng kuliglig ang naririnig,Lamig lang ng ulan ang nararamdaman.Habang inaangat ko ang aking kamay, iniisip ko ang iyong mukhaKinuha ko ang aking lapis, sa blangkong papel idinampa.Sa ilalim ng madilim na bumbilya,Iginuhit ko ang iyong mukha.Kahit ikaw ma'y hindi ko pa nakikita,Mukha mo'y kabisado ko na.Ang pungay ng iyong mga mata, ang haba ng iyong buhok,Ang mala-rosas mong labi, at makinis mong balatAng malalambot mong mga pisngiKung saan aking labi sana'y dadampi.Ang tibok ng puso ko'y bumibilisHabang ang iyong katawan nama'y iginuguhitAng iyong mga kurbang walang patidNa tunay naming nakakaakit.Ilang oras na rin ang lumipasNang simulan kong igalaw ang aking lapisNatapos na ang ulan, tahimik na rin ang hanginAt ang haring araw ay lumalabas na rin.Ang iyong guhit, na buong gabi kong inatupagNatapos na rin,
when i rise i'll rise above youhe left me witha heart of ashand a soulpraying to bereborn -"this timemake mesomethinganythingless fragile"
GoneGoing far awayObserving the road aheadNever considering going backEnding another chapter of my story
For But a Blinkthere is little grey leftin a sky going white we are too soon to win the struggle for memory, history far too early-on to be trusted see me through me you us we found everything and lost it in the hot blurry state shift of the ember we pretended we weren'ta burning window closes and this brief mess of man is crystallized for but a blink in the snap and crash of its cr
ways we constellate/a. dictitious/iam well-woven.iam a spellthat does not releaseand never tells.these constructionsi allow,and betterawakento speak in hearttonesand hymnbeatson rugged pavements.ihave builtart./b.beautine/this body hasforgotten its infinitebeatings, denieditself the luxuryof acceptancethis body hasremembered its lovers'last names, phone numbers,birthmarks and kindnessthe only cruelty this vessel knowsis from its middlesi have riddled myself intowarmth/c.capabuilt/these handsare imbuedwith patient dynamismand ichorthat the goddessessavorthey have movedmountain rangesand hoisted dark seasoverhead,then returned themdeftlysuch instruments deserve morethan my doubtsihave cloudedthe veins tenacious/d.aitbaar/i allowed thesehands to hold me.i have yet to feellike lessthan a Dalidreammy little ashesare coming closethe Gangeslost its murkto me; i carryremainsi house brokennesstill it is perfectedkintsugi
MemoriesI would spill gasolineOn my memoriesAnd set them on fireIf it didn't implyMelting the outlinesOf my beingSpreading the atomsInto nothingnessAnd losing trackOf my existenceCrafted fromMoments
Porcelain DollHello,little porcelain doll.It's terrible to see you again.It's the two of ushere in this dark roomStop analyzing me.I'm looking at your flaws tooIf I were to reach outand touch your smooth surfacewould you feel warmto me?Oh little porcelain doll,trapped in a glass boxforced to watch the worldpass you by; never sparing youa glanceThere are cracks trailingup and downyour arms and thighsWhy are you breakingyourself again?I would help to piece youback together butyou would ratherfall apart.Silly little porcelain dollCan't you see I'm damaged too?It's just the two of ushere in this lonesome room,I've got timeour relationship should improveIf I were to reach outand offer you my handwould you returnto me?My dear porcelain doll,we are far from perfectbut life and beautyis something we want to learn about.If I were to love youas you love methen do I have a chance?If I broke the glassand set you freewould you be the betterhalf of me>(though I'd r
misconceptionsand as he paces the cliffs of my ribs with hisfingers and contemplates jumping off,i leave his bruises of purple milky waysat home on my skinand push us both over theedge-hold me tighter, cause i'd rather be a bag of bleeding veinsthan nothing at all
These Thoughts Will Kill MePremièreWhat is it likeIn the middle of the ocean, babe?Do you think of meAs much as I think of you?Do you miss the fragranceOf my skinLike I miss yours?Do you crave my lipsAs I crave yours?Do you want me by your sideLightly tracing my fingersOver your delicate faceAnd you kissing my fingersEach time they pass your beautiful lips?DeuxièmeThe first little kickAnd the giggles that come afterNurturing a bodyThat isn’t my ownThe little fingers that willWrap themselves around my giant oneThe sleepless nights full ofFussing and cryingThe little pitter patter of tiny feetRunning across the wooden floorThe complete adoration in your eyesAs you take your first steps towards meAnd shout “Mommy!” as I scoop you upAnd nuzzle your little body into mineTroisièmeA family traditionEvery generationAt least one personDies from their depressionWill I be the one to dieIn my generation?QuatrièmePerfection eats away at everyone
ConflateI don’t believe in beliefs;I believe in cycles insteadto toss and turn into wisdom,live and learn from, until then:everything is a learning experienceand comes with a subtext thatif I can get through this,it won’t be forever.When the lyrics of my favorite songswon’t let me get some dream sleepI feel comfortable with the beatsin my head syncopating my heartthat someone might compliment,I like your rhythm.When the beat drops,And when it drops off,I will listen for the melodyof the memory, rememberingit doesn’t matter to me if otherscan hear the happiness.It’s all inside me andI’ll still be me withoutoutward music.I believe in cyclical beliefs;like turning a key opensthe lock to the music box,feeling a cynical relief.The swirl of melodiesbrings my back straightand builds me up….To build my way, on my own.Belief cycles helping me alongGive comfort in an unsteady future.
Chubibo - CarouselThe carousel of life goes a-roundIts passengers ride and alight(Either falling, or fading, or getting tired)It never stops spinning.Whirling in a circle of folly,A lesson learnedIs a lesson forgotten...