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(collaboration with the amazing, talented Katrina Blanco, follow her at twitter.com/xitscomplicated)

It is the feeling that I’ve lost so many chances of which I was not quite given that hurts me the most. It rests on my chest and if only time were on my side, I would have watched you fall in love with me than with somebody else. You’ve given me quite a lot of pain, instead of patience. You promised not to hurt, but maybe when you were speaking, you had your volume on mute and your mind, closed. I never meant to fall this hard. I wanted to be someone still capable of standing strong even without a shoulder to cry on or a hand to hold on to. I thought maybe you could prove me wrong- that being strong wasn’t all that important, because I had you.

But I didn’t have you – I never really had you. I had your hand, and your eyes, and your smile, but I never had you. I had your body but your soul was elsewhere. I had your chest to lay on but your heart never beat for me. You showed me that I’m not someone capable of standing strong without a shoulder to cry on or a hand to hold on to. You became my lifeline, and I was so blinded by how much I could breathe with you that I didn’t realize how contaminated the air you exhaled was.

I accepted it. Breathing bad air was better than not breathing at all – but little by little you have damaged my lungs and they have started to close in on my heart and now instead of being able to breathe, I feel suffocated and choked. I am drowning in the love you have refused to return to me.

If you cut my body in half, you’ll only find pieces of your heart floating through my blood stream and the comfort I used to find in your words written on my ribcages and somehow, although you’re dead to me, I still feel your fingers latched on to my spine. You’ve damaged and disposed the little forever I had planned out for us and there is not a drop of remorse in your pockets. I cough out the ashes you made of me and try to let in every bit of sunlight there is, to shut the cracks of my broken lungs and maybe, when I start breathing again, I’ll remind myself that not every boy acts like you.

Not every boy acts like you, and there will never be another you in my life. The good outweighed the bad for quite a while but I have reached my breaking point – I am done sacrificing who I am to get your attention. I love you. I am so in love with you, but just because I am incapable of being strong doesn’t mean I am not a good swimmer. The oceans of you have gotten me gasping for air, and for awhile there drowning actually felt good – but the current is growing stronger and I am becoming more determined to swim through your worst waves. I refuse to sink. I refuse to sink in a body of water as shallow as your soul.

It is the feeling of losing chances and realizing they were never there to begin. The oceans seem calming, when standing with your feet anchored to the shore, but what is underneath the waves tell a whole different story. Our love was based on fabrications and false hopes, I let my dreams take place of what reality held. You still rest on my chest, I have to admit; but it kills me so much that if only fate, not time, were on our side, I would have watched you fall in love with me than with somebody else. I miss you so much (but you don’t need to know that).

You don’t need to know that I will continue to miss you for a long time, because if I told you, your oceans would swallow me whole again. I am okay. My chest is still heaving and sometimes I am still gasping for air but I am okay, and I do not see you anywhere near me to hold me steady. I was wrong about you all along, you weren’t meant to put my pieces back together. You were meant to break me even better; and I was wrong about myself. I am capable of being strong without a shoulder to cry on or a hand to hold. You dragged me down for far too long and I finally stood up for myself, and I am not the slightest bit sorry. So here is my goodbye, my one last “I love you”. I love you. I loved you, but I love myself too, and I have decided now that being able to breathe and being able to live and being able to be happy is so much better than being with you.

(poem collaboration with the incredibly talented Matthew Delgado, matheyhue.wordpress.com)

This is an open letter to anyone who has the audacity to try to love her half as much as I did.  I would like to apologize in advance for all the resentment and umbrage this note might give you because you need to completely understand that you are in love with a girl whose pink bubblegum lips were previously reserved for mine, a girl with soft hands and a sweet voice who’s i love you‘s were solely set aside for me. And if you see that any of my anger seeps into the cracks of my cracked lips and my boiled blood on the sleeves of your vest, forgive me.

Forgive me because I am still in love with her. It’s as simple as that. I am in love with the way her hair cascades down to her halo and gracefully brushes her shoulder blades- those shoulder blades; don’t you think that they resemble an angel’s growing wings? Because that is what she is- an angel in the making. I am in love with the way her eyes capture the twilight rays of the sun and the way they shine like daybreak. I am in love with the way her voice tickles my earlobes; every word she says is a musical note, every sentence, a melody and every i love you is a requiem for me. I am in love with the way her skin pulsates under mine, our warmth radiating from us- we are the summer sun, were the summer sun, but I am still in love with her. She is still my present tense. And I was hoping, my future. But before I commend your bravery and courage into going this far with her, let me point out to you that I have never been one to walk away, so believe me, there are no signs of holes in my shoes or tracks of my footprints on the ground. Remember that I will love her longer than you ever will.

This was not supposed to be a letter of threat. But lately, that’s all that’s rolling out of my tongue. It’s not that I hate you, I just don’t want to be friends. My heart is in a battle with my head, my knuckles bruising my gut. You see, I lived with a hole buried down my chest ever since she told me about you. And I just want you to know that every time you kiss her, my lips were there first; every time you try to wrap your arms around her, it was my body that fit hers like a puzzle before yours; and every time you hold her hand, mine filled those spaces long before yours came into the picture. But now, it’s your name that she whispers at dawn and your shoulder that she cries on, so I hope that you know what you are getting yourself into. She’s not like other girls, trust me. When she’s angry at you and yells ‘I hate you’, what she really means is that she loves you so much it hurts her-and don’t walk away, hug her and whisper in her ear ‘I love you too’ because it will stop her from crying. She’s allergic to flowers, remember that, and she hates chocolates so give her handwritten letters on Valentine’s Day – or every day for that matter. Don’t put on too much cologne and remember to send her good morning texts. When you go on dates, don’t ask her what she wants to do – plan everything ahead of time. She likes surprises. Read the books that she tells you to read and watch the movies she tells you to watch. Never fall asleep when you’re texting her and midnight calls are expected every Saturday.

Tell her how you really feel; don’t try to be the man society expects you to be, be the man she needs. Tell her ‘I love you’ when she needs it the most or when she expects it the least.  And most of all, make her happy. You might even succeed at it, more than I hoped I would. If you ever find  yourself kissing her to sleep, keep on going until her eyelids fall and her breathing becomes silent and steady.

This is an open letter to anyone who has the audacity to love her half as much as I did. I don’t know your name, but please, please be good to her.

if my eyes could tell a story,
it would be about how it wore glasses,
how love used to be blurry until you came along,
you were like the last snowflake during winter
and the first flower that bloomed in spring.
my eyes liked to tell me a story
about how you were the shore and i, the waves,
about the origin of the stars
and how your eyes were to blame

if my lips could tell a story
they’d tell you that they longed to be pressed to yours
blow stars down my throat,
bring me back to life
take me to a place that feels like home
wrapped in your arms as the morning sun
poured across our skin

if my knees could tell a story,
they’d tell you about how they would quiver
every time your voice echoes through the room
and latches onto my soul,
they describe the feeling of the rough, cold ground
as i fall on them, accidentally bruising myself,
hopelessly losing my mind,
begging for your hands, positioned on my back,
pulling me towards you like gravity streaming on us

if my hands could tell a story
they’d trace the outline of your lips and your eyes
i was never good at maths
but i could count
the spaces between your ribs,
my fragile hands trailing down every inch of you,
planting seeds down your spine that will, grow, rise,
into flowers almost as lovely as your smile

if my veins could tell a story
it’d tell you how you drove your love into them,
aiming for my arteries,
how you were a galaxy to me,
leaving stardust and moonbeams
flowing through my body
you were never mine, but i wish you were
my veins told me a story of how they were lonely
and how they wanted to carry you, back to my heart
because they knew that that was where you belong

if my heart could tell a story
it would be one of hope, one of longing
two hearts beat in sync,
trapped beneath the weight of the world
you are everything I want
you are the poem I cannot finish, I don’t even know where to start
you are the exit wound, biting through skin
a hole in my chest where my happiness sinks into

 

a.m.t

e.k.m

It would always rain when you’re around and you get me at my worst.
Went for love with a boy I knew, had our seconds and not our firsts.
I’d cry, you’d scream and everything would fall so out of hand.
And when it did, I’d tell you this to make you understand.

Love, slip into my arms,
I don’t wanna fight tonight.
Listen to me and take a breath,
you know we’ll be alright.
I’m sorry, don’t forget, I love you
And I hope you realize in time
that I’d take every fighting moment with you,
if you promise to stay mine.

Another day, another fight and you wake up to all the pain.
The hand you’ve been holding for all your life is now a bottle of champagne.
Give in, grow up. Another cry, another tear, another wrong.
But when things get bad, just hear me out and play our little song:

Love, slip into my arms,
I don’t wanna fight tonight.
Listen to me and take a breath,
you know we’ll be alright.
I’m sorry, don’t forget, I love you
And I hope you realize in time
that I’d take every fighting moment with you,
if you promise to stay mine.

And I know it rains but you give me the sun even when I don’t ask.
And I know we aren’t each other’s firsts but you’ll always be my last.
And when things get bad with another sigh, another slam, another tear,
You cuddle me up and then tuck me in and whisper in my ear,

Love, slip into my arms,
I don’t wanna fight tonight.
Listen to me and take a breath,
you know we’ll be alright.
I’m sorry, don’t forget, I love you,
I hope you realize in time
that I’d take every fighting moment with you,
if you promise to stay mine

“The more you repeat a sentence, the more it comes true.”
“The more you repeat a sentence, the more it comes true.”
I heard that the more you believe then the more you can feel.
so the more you repeat a sentence, the more it turns real.

“The more you repeat a sentence, the more you are certain.”
If repeating it once isn’t enough, I say it again.
“1 I’ll get over, 2 I’ll get over, 3 I’ll get over you.”
If thrice doesn’t work, there’s no harm in reaching 62.
If you’re on a daily routine, I heard it’s hard to quit.
I heard that life gets hectic if you suddenly go on without it.

“You make me sad and I’m not happy and I really wish you knew”,
I write it down on a letter, making sure it doesn’t reach you.
Repetition, repetition- I’ve been at this for a year.
Been told that if you drive only one way, it’s hard to shift gear.

“Make me happy, give me love, come over- like you used to”.
I was told that “The more you repeat a sentence, the more it comes true”.
I have been living on this line since the day we met,
And repeating same sentences like a routine I’ll never forget.

“You make me sad and I’m not happy and I really wish you knew”
“Make me happy, come over, make me happy like you used to”
“You make me sad and I’m not happy. You’re a habit, hard to quit”
“Make me happy, give me love, please I can’t live without it”

I was told that “The more you repeat a sentence, the more it comes true”.
“9,010 I’ll get over, 9,011 I’ll get over you.”

Dear Daniel, three months ago, you sat right beside me telling me how beautiful I looked in this white dress and I didn’t believe you because I thought the complete opposite. Three months ago, you gave me a rose and told me you never regretted meeting someone like me and I felt exactly the same. Dear Daniel, three months ago, I was happy and you had never let me down. Until today.

Dear Daniel, let me tell you upfront that this not a love letter. I want you to know that the three months after all that, I grew up. Dear Daniel, I have never felt this way about anyone. And it’s devastating knowing you will never know that.

I’d walk by you again and again just because I think looking at you once isn’t enough. I’d check up on you casually, about your upcoming surgery- acting chill, but actually dead frightened you’d get hurt. I’d let you borrow all my things just so I could get to see you a little more often. I’d take time into making sure you wouldn’t skip class only because I know you’re too smart for that but you’re also too weak, you get carried away. Sometimes, when I laugh, you say it’s cute but I refuse with a comeback, sounding cool instead of flattered. When it rains, you cover my head with your hand as if it were big enough to cover me up. You squeeze my arms and repeatedly say “I miss you” when we haven’t seen each other in a long time. And lastly, your I love you’s were always meant to be friendly, but I’d always wish you meant them the other way. Dear Daniel, who wouldn’t have fallen for you? I waited half a year for you to get over this girl who cannot seem to appreciate just how amazing you are, someone who left you for another guy just when you needed her the most. I waited for more than half a year just to figure out that today, you say you like someone else  because of her smile and you knew I was inches beside you, just close enough to hear you- and I guess, you didn’t care much at all about how I would’ve felt after hearing that. Right now, you have this asshole who left you, a beautiful short-haired girl you admire and I, someone who probably loved you more than the other two. But dear Daniel, this, you will never know.

Today, we walked down together and then you grabbed my shoulder and said “Hey, you really like wearing that white dress, huh?”- as if he didn’t remember what he said to me three months ago. But incase, you still want an answer. Of course I do, Daniel. Of course. Three months ago, I had fallen so madly in love with you.

But dear, dear Daniel, I shouldn’t have.

I’ll love you in the Spring when the buds start to grow.

I love every bit of you and you don’t even know.

I’ll pick a pretty flower for you to call it mine.

I will fall madly in love with you in the Spring time .

 

I’ll love you in the warmest season of the year.

I’ll love you when the sun shines but you are never here.

I’ll still love you when you travel and spend 2 months away,

I’ll love you in the Summer, but love it more if you’d stay.

 

I’ll love you more than ever even when leaves start to fall.

I’m still in love with you, not knowing at all.

I’ll love you in the Autumn, more than I did in Spring.

I’ll love you in the Autumn like I did since the beginning.

 

I’ll love you in the Winter, I’ll love you in the cold.

I’ll love nuzzling in your arm even when we get old.

I’ll love you and those 3 words won’t ever be clear

to show how much I love you in the 4 seasons of the year.