Untitled

We built a fire from the whispered dreams

Now all that's left are fading screams

Your name still burns behind my eyes

I whispered it like a curse, a prayer, a thousand lies

You once caught me in that fire

It felt like home, like fragile desire

Yet love, like fire, refuses to die

It hides in the smoke, where old ghosts lie.

And in the silence, I sinfully pray—

“For the warmth I loathe, yet can't betray.”

The platform felt impossibly still, the kind of stillness that makes every sound echo louder than it should. The overhead lights hummed faintly, and somewhere far off, the low rumble of the approaching train filled the air.

I looked at you, trying to memorize your face without letting my eyes shake.

“Goodbye, Baek Yi-jin.”

Your lips pressed together before you answered, each word slow, careful.

“Goodbye, Na Hee-do.”

The whistle wailed. Doors opened. A rush of cold air swept between us, smelling faintly of rain. You stepped into the carriage, your figure framed in the doorway for only a heartbeat before the doors slid shut.

I didn’t move. I didn’t cry. I just stood there as the train carried you away—

and it wasn’t until you were gone that I realized I’d been holding my breath, like I could stop time if I never let it go.

We were brought together, but never meant to stay.

credits:

app used

@pinterest

@instagram

@tiktok

reference

own/shared experience

Tinigsik ko ining namamatian ko,

gabos nagbago kang siya nawara sa piling ko.

Sadiri ay tigsisi,

ta lintian na kulog,

kang nawaran akong kasurog.

Ika sana ang igwa ako,

kang panahon na pakiramdam ko solo ako.

Ngunyan na nakukulugan ako,

bako dahil wara ng kita at ako

kundi dahil sa tinubudan mo.

Pakiramdam ko dai mo midbid ang tunay na ako,

dahil sa ginibo mo,

sobra akong nakulugan pero nasasabutan ko.

Dai taka tigsasala ta ang may kagibo kaini ay ako,

pero naisip mo man lang ba na…bako ako arog kang naiisip mo?

Hata mo ito tinubudan kung dati tigtataram mo na midbid mo ako?

Habo ko mag kwestyon sa sadiri ko o kung anong naging igwa sato,

Some days, I still long for that hug—the hug that keeps me sane. I still reach for your hand to walk beside me. I wake up, go to school, and expect the same treatment from you. How ironic, right? Your presence once made the weight of this cruel world bearable, as if your very being could quiet the storms inside me. Now, without you, everything feels colder, harsher—like the air itself has turned against me. It aches, not in fleeting moments, but in every breath, every silence that follows your absence. It’s a quiet kind of breaking, the kind that no one else can see, but I feel with every beat of my heart. I ache for you in ways words can’t hold, in ways that blur the line between missing you and losing myself.

I miss you. I miss everything about you. Even just seeing you could make the worst days better. I miss the way you used to rant to me, the way you’d roll your eyes at my corny yet terrible jokes, then laugh your ass off with matching gigil and hampas. Sometimes, you’d even pinch or punch me. But most of all, I remember your eyes—how they wrapped around me like a quiet shelter, how they spoke in a language only my heart could understand. They made me feel safe, seen, and impossibly loved. You looked at me as if I was your whole world. And maybe, for a while, I was—until your gaze learned to find its home somewhere else.

There’s a part of me that wishes I could take it all back, that I could undo the moment I let you go. I tell myself it’s for the best, but the truth is—I’m not sure I believe that anymore. I catch myself talking about you like you’re still here, as if saying your name could make you walk back through the door. I still whisper the little things I used to “sumbong” to you, spilling my day into the air like you might catch it somehow. Sometimes, I pause, hoping—foolishly—that you’re listening, that you’ll answer, that the distance between us is just a bad dream. Just maybe…you can still hear me. Just maybe…you still care. But I know I’m only a memory you’ve outgrown.

You didn’t even reach for me, didn’t even give me the chance to be heard. And the worst part is knowing the words that broke me came from your mouth.

Life is emptier, quieter, and slower than before—but bearable. As time goes by, the “us” that we once shared will always have a special place in my heart. You were once my heart, my home, my rare salvation—and now you’re the wound that never heals.

Love,