You are beautiful-
even if your skin is not as white as Anne Hathaway’s. Not because your skin is not that white, doesn’t mean you’re already ugly. Maybe, one of society’s criteria of being beautiful is about being white, but believe me, you’re beautiful in your own way. Even if you have tan lines, you’re still exceptionally beautiful, I swear. So don’t be scared to go outside your house during noon time when the sun is shining so bright on it’s throne. Go, have fun and don’t mind whether your skin is going to be tanned. Don’t let anything hold you back. Just enjoy.
You are beautiful-
even if you’re underweight or even overweight. Size does not determine whether someone’s beautiful or not. Even if your waistline is not 24 or your stomach is not flat, you’re still beautiful. Don’t mind the society. They will always find ways on how they could bring you down but what’s important is that you don’t let them discourage you. So what if you’re size is big? So what if you don’t have a thigh gap? It doesn’t really matter. In the eye of someone who knows how to appreciate true beauty, everyone is fairly equal. You don’t have to starve yourself to death just to achieve that perfect body shape you’ve always dreamed of having. A healthful body is more important than a sexy body.
You are beautiful-
even if your hair is not the same as Lana Del Rey’s. You are beautiful even if you don’t have flat teeth. You are beautiful even if your nose is not as high as Manilyn Monroe’s. You are beautiful even if you think that you are not as slim as those dancers in your favorite TV show. You are beautiful.
You are beautiful-
despite of all your imperfections. You are beautiful and don’t mind if people tells you that you’re not. Someday, you’re going to find someone who will appreciate you no matter what. You will find someone who will tell you that you’re beautiful even if your hair is not yet combed. Just remember, "beauty is within the eye of the beholder" as they all say. Society’s opinion is not important. What’s important is that when you look at the mirror, you could confidently tell yourself, “I am beautiful”.
You are beautiful-
because you are the only person as beautiful as spring time. Your beauty is like a new born bud- let it grow, let it develop naturally. If you could only see, that your eyes are like windows to the universe, that your hair are like the vines that give beauty to a garden, that the entirety of you is a masterpiece, I swear, you’re going to look at yourself differently. If only you could see yourself the way I do.
I don’t need flowers to remind me of the fact that you love me not.
— Haiku on Daisies
She was with you all along- through ups and downs. Through thick and thin and everything in between. She held you tight and protected you though you should be the one doing that to her. As you walk through an abyss of darkness and fears, she covered your eyes and served as your sight. She experienced all those eerie things while you were walking so comfortable. She did that all for you. She make a dumb out of her very bright self just because of you. She had grown even more numb because she had experience those since day one. No one told her to stay, but she did. You did not even show her any reason to say. You’ve taken her for granted.
You were busy with someone else- while she’s busy loving you, you were also busy loving someone else. You never see how tears fall down her face as she watches you love someone else. You never did. Because you never looked at her. You were busy looking at someone else who did nothing but to look at someone else. You were so foolish that you never realized that there was someone who was worth it.
She gave up on you. She was too hurt. You have reached her maximum tolerance capacity. She can’t take it any longer. She’s hanging by a thin thread between giving up- letting go or staying- holding on. But the pain was so over flowing she couldn’t help it but to self pity. All she can do is to cry- weep and let go. What’s the point of continuing everything when she’ve felt nothing but agony.
Regrets- Now he realized that he was wrong. That he have taken her for granted. That if time could magically go back, he would time travel just to make everything right. That one girl who really loves her is now gone because he didn’t gave any importance to her. Now, as he walks through that dark abyss, he silently cries and feels her hand, but that’s something which can’t happen again. No, not anymore.
"Never ignore a person who loves you, cares for you, and misses you. Because one day, you might wake up from your sleep and realize that you lost the moon while counting the stars."
I know what we all want—to get out alive.
Infinitesimal pain molds infinite strength. When your heart is cracked open by the gruesome fractions of your entirety, remember that the crestfallen thoughts shall soon leave your skin; and the wounds it has left shall soon be parts of you—marks of the fleeting pain that has brought you to the correct trail towards composure and strength. I don’t know how to convince you that tough days may be to and fro but that doesn’t mean that it ends there—nothing ends there, actually. Sound waves are formed by vibration, and at the end of the wave, there is stillness—there is silence. And to get there, we must first experience the rapture caused by the thunderstorm.
So, close your eyes. Be still. Be gentle. This won’t end here.
In the alleys of the midnight street, we find shelter. In the broken bones hidden beneath the archipelago of our bodies, we find the growth we need to continuously gather our shattered pieces, collecting them one by one for remnants, when put together again, become signs of our complacency.
Turn on the lights. Just turn on the lights.
We aren’t made of rope-burns and scars. We are bodies with souls crafted to hold such pain; nothing should withhold your body from growing. We are made to grow, to let go of the things that anchor us down, to become better than the last “better” we have been.
It is winter. Grab a sweater. Heal some wounds. Cut laments off your paper-like heart. Heal more wounds. Jump off a cliff, but be sure that you have a parachute on your back waiting to bring you up again. Pull the blanket above your head. Warm yourself. Warm someone else. Let these words cause hailstorms in you, then watch spring take over your skin. Be good—be better; but never forget yourself.
Too much hope may be lethal, but what can we do? It is the only thing strong enough to put a cast around our constantly quaking hearts—it keeps our pieces, no matter how torn and shredded, intact and glued together.
The sky is crooked right now, but I trust you.
I guess I have to stop writing about you, even just for the mean time. Maybe as the snow stops falling, I should temporarily cease my feeling for you too. Maybe it’s time for me to realize that you have no chance to read my writings after all and that if you ever did, you wouldn’t even care. Maybe I should stop wasting my pen’s ink writing the words my mouth cannot say. Maybe I should stop wasting my journal’s pages just because I keep on repeating my poems for you because I am afraid you may not like it, though I know that you will not read those, still, there might be a very little chance that you will, despite of the fact that you won’t read my works. Just so you know, these works are all for you. Most of the time, I will write about how wonderful you are or how perfect you seemed to me but sometimes, I write about the pain you brought to my heart and how your apathy stabs me at my back leaving scars.
I guess I have to stop thinking about you, even just for a second. To be honest, you are always in my mind. I do not know what sorcery is this but no matter how hard I try, you will always be stuck on my mind. I guess I really have to divert my attention to other things knowing that you are nowhere to be found. Of course, you chose to be gone and not to be found. I guess I have to think about something else.
I guess I have to stop loving you. Of course, it pains me to be a victim of unrequited love, but do not worry, it is not your fault that you cannot fall in love with me. Just look at me, I am nothing compared to the highlights of the societies. Those perfect creatures. I am nothing compared to them. But if there may be a chance that you might change your mind (and choose me over those goddess), I’ll swear to you that I will love you more than they could ever do. I could not offer anything more. I only have my heart and a pen.
Things we should have done together.
We should have seen each other every morning, waking up to the rays of sunlight that passes through the translucent window of our small dainty room. I should have made you some coffee while you’re reading the news paper freshly delivered at the front of our door. We should have bought our grocery list together. We should have watched plays in the theater together. We should have criticized actors in a movie together. We should have drove a road trip from here to somewhere far, far away from home. We should have cuddled during rainy days. You should have brushed my hair while I should have fixed your necktie. We should have captured the memories we have together. We should have finished the bucket list we made together. There are still a lot of things we should have done together. Too bad, you passed my way in a speed of light.
When I was a kid, my mother used to tell me stories about the creatures of the dark. She then told me that they came from a different dimensions. She told me about how they look- they look really terrifying and scary. She told me that if I sleep late, someone would creep out from our window and scare me. That’s the reason why I was afraid of the dark. I am afraid that in the absence of light, there are these creatures that my mother tell me stories about. I never went into a pitch-black room alone. Maybe that is the reason why I am diatomic- I never go to a place without a companion. I am afraid of the things they can do to me.
Years have passed, and I am no longer scared of these figments of my imagination. I realized that I was the only one making those images inside my head. I became afraid of something real- I was so afraid to go outside every night. It’s because my mother told me that if I do so, there are some “bad” people who could do hideous things to me. At my age, my mother made me realize that the world is not really safe. Even in then comfort of your own home, you have no assurance that you’re going to be alright. I’ve read newspapers, watched televisions and I am aware that everyday, there are people who die because of the selfishness of others. Maybe that’s the reason why I am diatomic- I never really went out of our house or go to places alone. I am afraid of the things they can do to me.
But now, I realized that it’s not the monsters hiding in the thick sheets of darkness nor the people who has the ability to kill someone. I realized that if there is something I should be afraid of, it’s me- inside me are two personalities. The first one…is, I could say that this is the part of me who has this thing for sunsets. This part of me composed by cosmic dusts, cherry blossoms and other pleasant things. But the other half, is something unbearable. I could say that this is where the devil inside me hides. I am trying to hide it. I do all my best. But sometimes, it wanted to be free just like those dark crows flying across the vast sky. I am afraid I might not be able to control this other side of me. Maybe that’s the reason why I am diatomic- I always wanted to have a companion to comfort me when I feel like I am going to explode and change my demeanor to being an angel to a demon. I am afraid of the things I can do to me.
Save me from myself.
I am more than just tired. No amount of sleep could cure this physical and emotional exhaustion.
You were a thief.
The first thing you stole to me was my heart. You made me fall using your words. You know how much I love words specially if they are weaved into perfect sweatshirts that could protect me when it is freezing cold. You told me a lot of promises. I was a fool way back then so I readily believed in you. It was under the pitch-dark sky when you told how much you love me. You told me that the stars are the witness of the love you’re feeling for me, and that I would be the judge to tell you if I am feeling it or not. That moment, you’ve successfully stole my heart.
Another thing that you stole was my time. After a month of making me feel loved, you started being cold. From thirty missed calls down to no call at all. I spent hours and hours waiting for someone whom I thought loves me the way I love him. I was wrong. And then I realized that I was waiting for nothing. Like how I used to wait for Santa during Christmas when I was still a child. When we met, you we’re as joyful as summer. But now, you’re even colder than winter. I don’t know what happened.
Then I realized that you’re already the subject of my poems and writings. You did not just stole my heart. You’ve also preoccupied my mind. All I can think about is you. And how you stopped making me feel loved. You were the reason behind my bittersweet poems. You were the reason behind these cuts on my wrist. You were the reason why I wake up at three o’clock in the morning just to cry my feelings out. You were the reason why I became nyctophilic; why I became in love with darkness. It is because when you left me, you took all the light in my life with you. You left me with nothing but darkness.
So stop denying that you’re not a criminal.
Stop telling me that you’re innocent. Because you’re not. And stop telling me that you did not kill anybody. Because that night, when you told me that you did not love me- not even once and took back all the things you’ve said, you killed the entirety of me. I bleed but you were too blind to see it. You left me lying on the floor, like a broken glass. You hold me and brought me up in the sky. You made me feel like I am on cloud nine. Then all of a sudden, you dropped me and left me with my broken pieces.