In some odd
and dispassionate way,
she used to think of
all the things that could
possibly go wrong in a
single day.
She was that kind of
girl -
unfeeling and bland. You
couldn't really say
she was a heartless person.
In fact, she hated to be
called such.
Because she wasn't, really.
"Everything shifts and
spins at night like an insane
dance of the rising tides."
she said.
That tiny drop of faith
turned her nights of mourning
and grieving to her own
sentiments into a vision of
bliss. Like suicidal thoughts
and gloomy atmospheres
turn into promised carousel
rides and mornings spent
in terrains.
"Good days, good days"
she said.

Always believe in good
days.
Always believe that they're
gonna come. Sure there
will be times you'll feel a
bit of that hopelessness
course inside but
always believe that those
jocund little days
you have always longed for
will get to you one day.
It won't always come in
crashing waves.
Sometimes, it's just gonna
be an unexpected knock
on your door.

She was right there -
sitting in crossed legs,
the morning light
gleaming on her crimson
cheeks.
She was young
and naive.
Indecisive.
Quiet.
She became her own
defendant because she
chose to.
She wanted to be alone,
but she didn't consider
herself 'troubled'.
Because really, she wasn't.
She was an ordinary girl
who thought she,
standing alone, and not
having anyone get in her way
was much, much better.
Those days were rough
and now gone.
The thought of her
existence took precedence
over the thoughts
that have been intensely
clouding her mind.
"I'm alright. I hold no grudge."

One day, you'll see
her at a park bench or a
cafe and she won't
even notice you anymore
because she'll be too
busy exchanging laughs
with somebody else.
And you're just there, watching
her sip her coffee and her
mouth breaks into a smile
you always thought could
light up a town.
You -
you're frozen in place and
all you could do is heave
a deep sigh, watch as he strokes
her hair and feel your
heart sink because
hey,
she doesn't even recognize you.
Hurts, huh?

You deserve it.

Runaways

There's a girl riding
the midnight train
out there, weeping as
she slowly falls asleep to
the silence of the night.
There's another girl out there
biking the empty
streets of an unfamiliar place,
her heartbeat getting faster
and faster with every pedal.
There are kids out there
standing on the curbs
and patiently waiting
for the next bus to arrive, their
hands cold and shaky
from either fear or probably
just in a hurry, I'm not
quite sure why.
And you,
you're stuck in your home
wishing you were one of
these kids and could run away too.

—

Pieces

Every word that comes
out of your mouth sounds
like a poem with no vowels
and rhymes but I know
for a fact it's a poem because
it meant something to me
though I couldn't seem to
get the idea because every time
I think about it, generally, it
seems like an inconceivable
prayer waiting to be recited
by you, and only you.
Your voice exemplifies the
stillness in the ticking clock
and every tick is another
step away from the graveyard
where I buried all the words
I wish I could say but
never had the courage to
because maybe, I'm just
another lost girl still in search
for the light at the end of
the tunnel.

Will I ever get there?

Deprived of a need

The crashes of the waves
resembled the way your lips
curve and the lines on your
neck created a path that led
to your tiny fingers, reminding
me of Romeo and Juliet and
their hands intertwined. Every
time you spoke I could tell that
you're hoping to be a little
bit of something in your tone;
and that is how I knew so well.
Every chirp of the birds that
wake you up will remind you
of me and all the songs I
never got to sing to you just
when you asked me to and
miles away, I would quiver with
every word that lingers inside
me and I'm not quite sure
if I'd be glad about it because
at least I know things are fine
or disappointed because I
wake up every morning, bothered
by this distance between us.
I hope the things I tell you that
you keep under your blanket at
night make their way to your
mouth and it curves into a smile
that's gonna make the sun rise
and the moon stay hidden.
No more secrets were needed
to be kept by the sky's 3 am
pitch because they are already
buried within me. And you
know what? I'm keeping them with me
just as I would keep you
close to this pumping thing on
my chest...

The pains of remembering

I believe my eyes knew

me so well yet

it's slipping past me now.

A laugh I once thought was

for a girl like me echoes down

an empty hallway.

A flashing image of the happy 

days with the people I owe

so much to; far too close, near

our spot.

A flashing image that was gone

far too soon.

I ran out of people,

and moments,

and dates,

and conversations to blame.

Since then, I blamed

the day for taking over

the night 

and shining light on everything

that should've stayed

hidden in the dark.

Now here I am, remembering

people and wishing we

had more time to learn every part

of each other.

A hundred poems written 

on anything,

hands,

walls,

desks and the pavement where 

we spent our late nights.

Three hours spent searching

and reading the poems 

that paint every part of a happy 

picture of people, now far away.

A lifetime spent

remembering

and regretting and reading a hundred

poems time & time again.

x

The stitches inside me are

creating a reflection

in my eyes like a code no

one could decipher.

Veins like branches of a tree

on winter; weak and old,

they're dying either way.

She spoke words that kept

him awake through the night,

depriving him of what

he needed the most.

Silk-like skin and sun-bright eyes,

who knows what lies beneath?

A twist in her being

She was a young woman,
poised and flexible.
She had flowers growing in her
rooted being yet she had them
pulled out by everyone around her.
Every night, the sky bled over as
she fidgets, waist-deep in thought of
her twisting sanity.
They believed she was
weird and beautiful. They loved everything
about her but she was blinded
by the lies other people spit in her eyes.
The kind of things that remind
you of the vast  ocean and the cloudy sky.
Her hair that glows magenta in the
sunlight and her angelic, contagious smile.
She wanted to be thought of.
Loved.
But every time people offered her what she
needed, she refused to believe.
Because maybe, she was waiting for her
flowers to grow again.
'Leave me be.' she said.

03-30-14; roads

And I walk on this rough
road, lonely and in need of
someone who could fill the
spaces between my fingers.
The cold wind blows and I
keep walking. Before I realize
it, I've come such a long way,
I'm on the same road. It was
quiet and the skies looked sad
and I couldn't describe myself
any better. I'm not stopping
just yet. There's another road
somewhere. I just have to keep
going. It's gonna be fine.
Hopefully.

Little tracks

Look into my eyes and tell

me how they look alluring

in vibrant ocean blue.

Tell me how you wished

you spent your mornings by

the shore with me, waiting for the

sun to come up and by the time

the horizon is visible, we'll be back 

in bed again.

Look into my eyes and feel 

the vagueness of what your life

has become course through you.

Feel it seep into those tiny

holes in your veins like you want

to disappear in a bubble and when

you've gone the way of all flesh 

you won't care because living isn't

the same without me.

Look into my eyes and think of the

nights we held hands together

in the pale moonlight. Think of when

nobody bothered about us sneaking

out at night, them knowing it was the

only way I'd get through the day.

And you know what's sad?

It's when you close your eyes 

for a while and your mind takes you

to places you don't wanna 

remember anymore and by the

time you open them you realize

that you're not looking at my 

eyes at all. You're looking at an

old photograph of me almost

fading in color because darling, it's been

years since we've gone separate ways.

And you have no clue where

I am.

Cable wires

Locked in conversation

and feeling our beings adhere,

We stood next to each other.

our words meant something far from here

Wires tangled up

in all the things we desire.

We're emotional fighters

left burning in the sun's fire.

City lights glow

as cameras roll

to capture the movements 

of every breaking soul.

3/1/14; Walls

It's sad when you realize that you've built too many walls between you and the people around you. Something about that kind of thought emits a sad aura and you couldn't help but sit and feel everything dying underneath your skin. 

 At one point in your life this was everything you hoped for. Distance from people you think you've become a burden to. But later on you'll realize that you'll always be good enough for somebody and you're not a burden at all... but no matter what you do, your emotions will always be stabbing you in your guts. 

And maybe putting a great distance between you and everyone isn't the only thing walls do. They kill too.

2/17/14; Windows

Breathe me in,

collide with my mind,

Open your senses,

for it's clarity you will find.

Petunias like damsels,

in crimson dresses from afar.

Dancing to the wind,

hoping to be right where you are.

Silhouettes of trees

as dark as my little dreams,

Waist deep thoughts,

scattered and bursting at the seams.

Chapters

Somebody sit with me as I

watch all these buildings

burn down just as they sat 

and looked at me lying on

the ground wilted.

It hits me at dawn 

like I'm watching this devastating

wildfire across the street and I just sat

there on the curb watching everything

burn into ashes. The fact that

they listen but never understand

my troubles has become my biggest

trouble yet. It's like I'm in

the midst of the crowd and each

person that passes by me vanishes

in thin air. I'm probably just an

empty cup waiting to be filled
on a cold December night and
in a snap of a finger I was  caught up in a
dream in the meadows watching the sun
shine through the trees as I sit on a rainbow but

it was raining at the same time...
And I'm never aware of that...

Blurred lines

When I'm in bed and it's
all quiet and the ticks of
the clock and the cold wind
that blows are
my only distractions, I see
faces floating across the room
that I cannot quite remember
but I know for sure we met once
somewhere. It could be an
accidental glance or someone
picking up something you
dropped at a bus stop and right there,
you strike a conversation or
when you sat on a park bench and
someone asked if they could sit beside
you and you had a small talk about
the occurrences lately.
Isn't it amazing how you come across
different people in a short period
of time?
Don't you miss the way you
had your little talks at all these places?
Do you think you'll still see each other
again?
Try to imagine yourself lying in bed
at a care center. You remember all these
faces and places that are starting
to blur in your head and you'll be wondering
where they are right now.
It's beautiful and sad at the same time.
Beautiful in the way you've crossed paths
with these people and sad in the way
that though they play parts as small
as the atoms that make up who you are,
at least they became a part of your journey
and they make you think of the
things you could have done with them
if goodbyes never existed.

Uncertainty

Our inner beings are trapped

inside our rib cages,

unable to get out unless we let them to

but then, we aren't quite sure if we 

want them out because 

we are afraid of risks and

we are afraid to try.

Maybe that's why we feel this

knocking pain in our head down to our rib cages

because our souls have made our

entire body their asylum, making us look

lifeless on the outside and sicker on the inside.
That's the pretty-ugly explanation
of our lives. Risks scare us but
not the things that are
going to be our worst regrets
in the end.

Like a pack of cigarettes,

we are addicted to the 

first inhale, like we are addicted to
the pain it gives us,
leaving us hooked to it

and not knowing that it's killing

every inch of us slowly.

It's like feeding ourselves with every inhale

and killing our inner beings at the same time.

Thinking it won't harm us,

our uncertainty has risen up, making us 

think it's nothing but a stick

we use to feed our souls.

We are able to

see the good in it in our inhales,

craving for it by the minute and craving

for air at the same time.

We do it all over again thinking 

it's gonna be fine but
it's a dirty, dirty liar.

Blinded

But there's something behind
that calmness...
Something that I think of
every now and then.
Something that reminds me
of wildflowers and
the way I've always admired
people with beautiful spines.
Something that takes me back
to places I've been to once
and longed for right when I left.
Something that stirs inside me
when I hear all these little voices
in my head that scream
my imperfections.
Every day, without any warning,
I trip on the good things.
It's like I'm on a deserted alley
and all I could hear is my
heart pumping...

Today

God knows
I have battle scars.
He knows
what goes through
inside me
when nostalgia
catches me in
a wave.
I mean, what does He
not know?
He knows I spit
words I have so much
loathe on like
I'm intoxicated with them.
The fact that I keep
so much to myself has haunted me
since the day I was
stranded in the middle of
nowhere in a storm.
And I realize that
at the end of the day,
all I have is myself & the emptiness
in my rotting soul.
Considering it a permanent mark
inside me,
I get all numb and naive
without a reason why.
Day by day,
I cross out everything I despise
in my head but then,
in disappointment, I thought
to myself: 'if storms were
meant to go away, why does
it keep on lashing on me?'
everything piles up just like
a snowman I'm trying to
make in a blizzard.

Thorns

11:59 pm

Sitting on my bedroom floor,

my lamp was flickering
and I felt empty.

I felt cold
and I was in dire need of
a company.
I was longing for the daylight
because by then,
the morning vibrations will
wash away all the sorrows of tonight.

1:25 am

My lips were twitching

as I flipped through the pages of my journal.

Sudden waves of nostalgia
hit me hard
as every memory started creeping its way
out of me.
And there I was,
bawling my eyes out in despair.
My numbness has kept me alive
through the night.
Dashed hopes and forgotten people,
how bad could this night get...

2:30 am
I have thorns growing inside me
and that's probably why
I hurt each time I break down
because it hurts a lot more inside
and I couldn't get it out
because maybe I deserve it.
I deserve all these things
that create walls between me
and happiness
and all these people
that interfere with my life.
It pains me, I tell you.

3:00
Silence.
All I could hear is the sound of crickets
and cicadas
and the branches of the tree
that knocked on my bedroom window.
I sat on my bed.
For a minute I've drowned
myself in a sea of nothing
but hopelessness.
I screamed for help
but all there was were echoes
of the waves
and whispers telling me how
a huge burden I've become to everyone.
And maybe I was.
And I'm sorry.

By the doldrums

Like the roots of an old & dying tree,
She kept every bit there was in her.
She wails as she loses her grip,
Tensed as every tick gets faster.

She shed tears of plain anguish,
Hanging by this little swing of agony.
Every thought seeped into her little veins,
Grieving in search for that lost intimacy.

The sun passes through the window blinds,
She was thinking of the things she could have said.
A heavy heart & a cynical mind that she had,
She lies in bed whispering to herself: 'I am not mended.'

─ Julie Pauline Moscoso