beyond ordinary

five years of friendship five years of realizing how blessed i am to have you i. you breathe words that sound like poetry dancing in my ears. speaking charmingly written lyrics that come out like soothing melodies. ii. you are as delicate as a tulip blooming in spring, but also an intricately handcrafted beaut with eyes that hold the universe. iii. your mind is one powerful gift. it can be as serene as the ocean on low tides or it can rage like the winds on October. sometimes there is no in between. iv. it may not look like it, but you stand strong and tall as the Narra. standing firm behind your beliefs; holding on to your words like a sword; as strong as the Great Wall that no storm can tear you down; as strong as a woman.  v. you create symphonies that captivate hundreds of hearts. a kindred soul that saves those who drown in the abyss; showering stardust into people's lives, radiating them with your affection. and with that, i cannot thank you enough.

you always told me I had a special place in your heart, and I always believed that. but to you, everybody was special. I didn't want to be just like everybody else. so I told you I was gonna leave, because I did not like crowded places.

in the middle of an unknown street,

i thought i was strong until i met you. that night when the music was roaring, people were dancing, lights were shining, teens were drinking, i was weak in your arms. i thought i was strong until you held me tight, kept me by your side til dawn, and kept an eye on me so i would not fall. i thought i was strong until you did not allow me to drink one more shot because you saw me acting differently. i thought i was strong until i passed out at three a.m. and you were by my side. you wrapped me around your body, our legs tangling, my face buried against your chest, our breaths close to each other’s ears. i thought i was strong until you held my body and caressed my bedhead hair — as if you did not want to let me go. i thought i was strong until we saw the desire for one another that night.

we started as friends-with-benefits, hooking up on a Friday night after we’ve drank too much, carelessly craving for each other’s skin, continuing to desire lust over love. but as time passes, my heart yearns for something more.

We lay on the sand side by side with your elbow propped up to your head, facing me. The sun has settled somewhere in the west, preparing to set. I stare at the waves as it mixes with the orange tone of the light. We both know that moments like this are simply to kill some time while we’re not busy with schoolwork or with our mutuals or babysitting your little sister. “Do you know what’s even better than mint ice cream?” you asked me out of the blue. For as long as I’ve known you, reciting random questions you think of is something I don’t get tired of hearing. I remember when I was five and you were six that your mom would bring us to the bay walk at weekends because those were the only days she was free. We would always stop by Dippin’ Dots to buy our usual – bubblegum for me and mint for you. You almost wished your mom didn’t have to work so she could always buy us ice cream. It’s been twelve years since I’ve known you and I could not name anyone who could be as loyal as you are to mint. You’d even fight your mom to buy three pints of it and fight your little sister over who eats a whole pint. I remember when I was eleven and you were twelve that we were walking barefoot by the beach with a junior cup of gelato on a scorching summer when you told me how the color of your ice cream matched the pale green of my eyes. Back then I’d think you were just stating the obvious but as I think about that moment right now, I hope you don’t notice my heart flutter. Staring at the waves for too long makes me really ponder if I’m starting to feel butterflies in my stomach when I’m with you or — “What?”, I snap back to reality and look into your ocean eyes. “You…”

We were cruising down the bay-walk that afternoon of June, hand-in-hand
And even with the huge crowd minding their own business, 
I could hear the waves of the vivid blues crashing the bay
And your stirring voice as it matches the sea.
Two voices that calm me down. Some afternoon, I was in my summer job 
Covered in sweat while wearing that thick polo shirt
And standing by the counter, waiting for a customer
When the shop’s phone rang – it was for me. I will always love you, you said. 
And I’ll always love you too, I reply. I could sense the quiver in your voice as if you were freezing in cold
As if you were scared to say I love you once again. 
But.
A splash. I heard the splash of water.
Then, it was still. I’m cruising down the bay-walk this sunny afternoon 
With babbling people still crowding the scenery
But the only thing I could hear
Were the crash of the waves
And I could hear your voice as these blues hit the shore 
Two voices that seem to be killing me inside. I don’t know why you jumped.
I don’t know why you ended it.
I don’t know why you let go.
I don’t know why you left me here. But,
One thing’s for sure,
I don’t want to hear the waves ever again.

We all die as skulls – Flesh and skin; all gone astray Through time and space, Flowers will grow within us and god will tell us that we had still died beautifully.

On Saturday afternoons, She would sit on a wooden bench overlooking the crystal blues that contrasted the magenta splatter of the sun. She would just sit and stare until the sunset turns Into an array of glitter surrounding her eyes. Her neighbors and friends would pass by, Usually becoming silhouettes from her view. They always thought why she stayed there On sunny afternoons. But they never conversed with her. So they came to a conclusion. A lot of them did. She was a crazy little teenager, Just like her mother, Wasting her time staring at sunsets On Saturdays. When she knew about it, She shrugged it off. But the truth is, it was more than just staring At the sunsets. Or the crystal blues. It was the feeling of her mother’s warmth Smooth on her skin, Letting her know that everything will be all right. Saturday was always the best day on weekends, Her mother always said. Her mother’s face reflected from the still waters And she’d catch a glimpse of her mother smiling, Showing off the golden smile she always wore when She was still beside her. Her mother loved watching the sunsets, Because she said it becomes more beautiful On the next visit. They watched the sun go to sleep When they had the time. But they never watched it again, After her mother was silent in her sleep. So here she is, Continuing to watch the sun fall - Despite the noisy silhouettes - Knowing that she’ll see her mother again The next day. Looking more beautiful than yesterday.

I find peace in the books I read – in the poems my mind seizes to act, in literature and arousing words. I find peace in the rays of sun blinding my eyes, during sunrise and sunset, in the birds singing and nesting near my window. I find peace in solitude – in savoring my time with myself, in a quiet room filled only with the noise of keyboard clicks, rushing feet scraped in cement, muffled noises two stories below, and the faint beep of minuscule cars.

the scenery beyond this balcony is the perspective I wish you once had when you looked at me in the eyes. the rustle of leaves soaring in the wind at dusk, the rustic flow of the river swimming toward the ocean territory. calm, breathtaking, delicate. I’m not some kind of road trip late on a school night on the outlaying suburbs miles away from home, whilst taking me to the darkest allies of God knows where. vulnerable, bruised, traumatised. this was your perspective of me. so I stand inside the room, overlooking the scenery of this balcony continuing to grip onto this rusted rope, reliving the memories of my sixteen years of living one. last. time. even if you try to pull me out of this suffocation, I’m not blinding myself anymore. i don’t want to put on a smile in front of someone who shed my dignity. I wouldn’t even clasp on to my last few days if it weren’t for your crude desires in the first place.

Your eyes gleam like the ocean’s telling a story The way your face tilts to the afternoon heat, And your freckles showing like polka dots rounding the features of your face Your hair tousled and wet on most mornings at school And the way your voice sounds like a record roughly playing on a vinyl This affection I have towards you is burning Every muscle of mine softens, My legs tremble My arms shake My heart melts to a hundred degrees Whenever I see you walk through the corridors of this crimped hallway filled with Rushing students, babbling girls, and prideful boys Everyone’s eyes are on you, Hundreds of eyes staring at you, Mesmerized by the beauty they’re seeing, Including mine. I always see you like this, 5 days a week Still crossing my fingers, Hoping you’d look my direction. I watch you in my dreams, In my untangled nightly memories And consciously smiling in my midnight thoughts Giving me a sense of hope That you’d talk to me Or even see me The next day. Or the next. Or the next. When the golden sun strikes my drowsy eyes, I know I’m gonna see you again today. Another day filled with hope and crossed fingers I can’t wait. A tap on my shoulder says it was the touch Of your long, masculine fingers While I was carelessly rummaging through Stacks of unused books in the library “Hey.”

on the first day i stepped in, we were strangers. we didn’t talk to one another. we didn’t look at each other. but as days went by, i saw you in my dreams for the first time - an unfamiliar face i’ve only known  for four days. the moment i woke up, i asked God why you stepped into my sleep. I keep telling myself that this isn’t developing into more than a feeling. it couldn’t be. i steal glances at you but i know there’s nothing  more than that. out of nowhere you pop into my notifications the first time we’ve conversed with one another i thought you were turning into someone out of my league someone i could be thankful for dreaming of. instead, you turned out to be the opposite. you ticked me off. turned me off. and made me wonder even more  why i dreamt of you in the first place. out of all the circumstances, why am i letting myself in? why do i miss you when i shouldn’t even think about you? why do i still want to talk to you - the player of all players. the baddest of them all. why am i still pushing myself to you even more?