Watching Eyes

i watched them both.
how she leaned into him and
how he stole a glance at her.
how he made fun of her and
how she laughed with him.

i asked her of what she thinks of him.
she told me he’s annoying.
she told me he’s fun to be with.
she complained a lot
yet she smiled through it all.

i asked him of what he thinks of her.
he told me she’s weird.
he told me she’s very understanding.
he shrugged at most of my questions
yet he remained serious through it all.

i wondered who’s going to realize it first.
who’s heart will light up and
who’s mind will clear.
and so, i continued to watch them both.


Point of Views

I don’t want to look at him because it pains me to know that his eyes were never meant to see me. His words were never constructed for me. His heart, never would it skip a beat for me. His mind was never to wander to me. His hands were never to held mine.

I don’t want to look at her because it hurts to know that her eyes were never for me to gaze into. Her words were never for me to hear. Her heart, never would I make it flutter. Her thoughts were never for me to conquer. Her hands were never for me to hold.


I paint the floor red through the fluid that leaks from the cuts on my wrist. As I wait for my life to meet its end, memories swarm into my brain like a movie. I’m watching my own life. Sure, things didn’t work out well for me and life has been cruel to me but then as life itself slowly escapes my living body, the good things started to flash into my mind. The cheerful memories replaced the sad ones and I’m back with my joyous moments. I thought about my parents, my siblings, my friends. How I promised my little brother I’d be his protector while he’s young. How I swear to my sister I’d be her maid of honor at her wedding. How I smiled and let my parents believe I was fine. How I usually tell my friends “Everything’s gonna be okay.” I thought about how I promise myself to get stronger and yet here I am –drowning in misery and too coward to put up a fight with the trials I am faced. And then it hit me–I wanted to change. However, death could not help me change anything. Shame, how I can be easily defeated and lured by death. Stupid, how I thought death would make it better when it would only make it worse. Funny, how by death which was to save me in my temporary earthly life would be the cause of my unending suffering in eternal life.
Now I want to live so badly. I tried to stop the bleeding but my hands are too weak to aid the cut. I want to live, I whispered. Help me! I cried. I want to live…I want to live…I want to…I want… I…

In the dark

It was 2AM. She just got her heart broken; had her eyes leaking; had her body shaking. She can’t stop the hiccups she’s producing. Her refusal to accept the truth has made her unable to take hold of the situation. She denies her bad habits and attitude, putting all the blame to him, then in a while, takes them all back and blames it all to herself. Her pillow is wet. Everything was cold. She grew tired but she can’t control her sobs. Her mind was bombarded with questions and answers which only generate more questions.
In the dark, she sulks.
In the dark, she fades.
And in that moment, in the dark, she belongs.