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

Luminosity

Your voice lingered in the darkest parts of my mind,
And crept its way in the deepest parts of me.
Every word hit me like a train on a track,

Awakening me from my melancholy.

Breaking free from this obscure sphere,
Moving along with it all slowly.

Sundown, we prance under old oak trees,
Letting every minute sink hard right into me.

Right there in the dense fog,
I left the things I've wanted to say.
But like a flower that has wilted,
I've always known I wouldn't stay that way.

One morning I woke up,
And it all became so clear to me.
Maybe I dreamt of it too much,
Leaving me tangled in this sweet serendipity.

─ Julie Pauline Moscoso