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siargaodump (12 of 14)

I am at peace
For the longest time I thought
Peace was elsewhere
Peace was a place
Peace was with someone else
Peace was a person
Peace was out there, somewhere
Hidden amongst the clouds
Scattered away by rain
Vaporized by the sun
But I’ve searched for it out in the world
And I didn’t find it anywhere but here;
in my heart, in my mind
I found it in loose threads & I sewed it together slowly, with every part of my being
I took my time to patch the little holes
Where sadness would peep through
Where loneliness could come creeping in
Again & again, I did this day by day
Weeping some days out of happiness
While some days out of hate
There were minor setbacks;
Though none that could break the seams
They were there to remind me
that I am human, that I have emotions
That even with the seldom streams of tears
Being at peace, My peace;
Makes every frustration seem small

Sunsets.

I know when the sun sets

You’ll tell me you love me

When no one’s looking and what’s left is

Our bodies etched between what ifs and regrets

I know when you stare

Those eyes will haunt me till I sleep

When your touch has left marks everywhere

Like secrets we never can keep

I know when you smile

It’ll be too late for me to step back

It’s a whirlwind, it’s a blackhole

Itching past the blinds before they turn black

I know when the morning comes

We wouldn’t even speak

Who am I and who are you

We’re two people unlikely to meet

I know when you leave

I’d feel numb to my core

You were bad, you were good

And here we are wanting more

Do people even like poetry?

I was never good at it and never dwelled on it up until I was in college.

My cousin died of cancer at the age of 20. He was a second year nursing student back then, and he used to write beautiful poetry. He wrote about his classes, his experiences, even his sickness. He wrote about leukemia and how it managed to consume his body as time passed on.

I went to the same school he was in, and i didn’t really expect that poetry would become my medium after writing prose in elementary and high school. But I guess, it stuck because it was something that reminded me of him. It was something that I could say we had in common. It was… Kuya’s thing.

I’ve written almost 50 poems in the past five years, about love, lost, longing, school and whatnot. I don’t really let a lot of people read it because some are too personal. But isn’t it what writing is all about? Conveying an emotion, telling a story, exposing your roots?

📸 MarkE

I don’t write poems anymore.

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Not for the guy I met in April
With the sideburns and a smile
I was naïve, it was exciting
To have locked unto his eyes
He was smart, he was charming
But he was blunt to my demise
and in the end, it really was nothing
but a girl’s first crush in a while

Continue reading “I don’t write poems anymore.”

MEDSCHOOL BLUES.

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I am not proceeding to med school right away.

 

I think I have written a post about this before but I can’t seem to find it. Or, I deleted it for some reason. But yes, here it is again, the topic is out in the open and I have a lot of reasons as to why I am not proceeding to med school right away.

Continue reading “MEDSCHOOL BLUES.”

James; 060117

“Hi—”
i uttered as I saw his tall physique
he was leaning against the table
his eyes scanning the pages of his book
his eyebrows; thick and shaped, so perfectly well groomed
furrowed as he looked up at me in annoyance
i waved my hand to say nothing as he rolled his eyes at me
flipping the pages of his book looking for the facts he needed
he had a great passion for learning new things
he’d immerse himself in the defintions of medical conditions
that it amazes him every time he makes a discovery
and I watched him in awe as he smiled like “Eureka!”
and that is when I thought to myself
i wish I could find a guy who’ll look at me the way he looks at books