What Does Your URL Mean?

to the boy who’s in love with the sun

to the boy who’s in love with the sun (and who also seems to be alike with the moon),

one

i am not a dreamer. i do not wish upon stars. they will suck every letter of our dreamy words. they let us taste lies from every glimmer they give for our eyes to hold. they look down on us, laughing. they watch us as our grounds shake, as our souls skin out every last smile we own. i am not a dreamer. i am not hopeful. i do not hope for impossible truths. i do not hope for palpable things to become blur. because reality is right in front of us, taking out every pain in between our eyes for us to feel, and we already can’t do anything about it, but to just accept and take everything. what’s on the tip our tongues are mantras we need to swallow. we need to stop hoping. we need to.

two

this is what i always thought.

three

i am not a dreamer. at least, long ago.

four

once, i found myself staring at the night sky and it was full of stars — full of hope like ones you see on the eyes of people in love. back then i thought, falling in love is an endless prayer of “please, please, please”. falling in love is picking up pieces that were already thrown away but keeping them in hopes of making them fit into the incomplete you. falling in love is wishing upon stars and endlessly hoping for nothing. and i said, i don’t want to fall in love.

five

but then one day, i saw him.

six

he was standing right in front of me, and the day was sunny. and i thought, he was reality’s human form. he was exactly the reason why people bow down to their knees every single night just to whisper wishful things, like for him to realize that the stars have always been singing for them like church bells. like his dreams finally came true and he was too blind to feel them running around him. he was someone i knew i shouldn't get my hopes up for or waste any time fancying of. but i couldn't help but to dream of his voice even if i haven’t heard it yet. i couldn't stop to want him to look at my way every time i feel him passing through the hallways of my heart. i couldn't stop imagining things. i don’t know if he can feel my eyes as they try to hug him every time i look at him from afar. his hair was the night sky, starless because they were showered onto every smile he gives.

seven

and i thought, maybe he’s in love with the sun for his cheeks are rosy pink, yet he was pale as the moon. and i wish that i used to be in love with him. because i want to give up for i realized my love would eventually go nowhere and burn out. but for the mean time, i want to know his name.

eight

i hope you know you’re the one i’m talking about.

nine

to the boy who’s in love with the sun, tell me your name.

from the girl who once told you to the stars (and who also mentioned you in her every prayer) yet she'll soon stop on wishing, hoping, dreaming and loving

(eusie.)

dear winter

dear winter,

just this time, will you please stop making snowflakes? i sneeze a little too often than before. do not attempt to dance outside my windows, i will never come out and watch you. please be gone as soon as possible, i can never get pass through your time.

just this time, i want you to not kill me again because every year when you are here, you kiss me with your snowflakes and i feel bliss even if i know you’re also kissing someone else. you whisper sweet nothings against my windows and every morning i wake up and see them as lyrics of a daylight lullaby; i smile even if i know in the evening, you’ll still give me nightmares. you control me and poison me to just give my every minute to you when you are here.

just this time, please stop… because just when everything comes to the most freezing moments of mine, you leave and i die; i don’t want that to happen again.

so please, just this time…

just this time… i want you to go away.

i am restraining myself on missing you as i run out of breathe each day. come back when i am when i want to feel frozen.

(eusie.)

i'm scared to be scarred again. give me a little bit more time

In-se-cure

a.k.a. I want to forget your name

I turned my back away from haunted walls one night with shaking hands and eyes lost in focus, with lips startled and words buried deep within six feet down my throat. There had been a war across my horizons, among my thoughts, along with bombs exploding leaving me deaf to every “You’re beautiful” thrown against my face ever since. They see me flush in red, but burn with questions that can make every human’s words into ashes. I don’t trust what they say, because whenever I see myself as I stand in front of the mirror, I can hear my own eyes gasp. With my hands clasped to each other and tied above my chest, mouth slightly open, eyes glued to the ceiling — I started crying again. The moonlight peeped through my windows, and I think I saw your face in the dark. My knees traveled to be clenched by my arms. There was sudden heartbeat, then another.. like a continuous bang on my bedroom door. Ignoring it, I tried to forget the reason why everything seemed to be connected to you. More like I tried to find the reason why, because although they said I am worthy and I didn't deserve you, what I have been keeping in mind is when you let go in a whisper, “You just weren't enough.”

(eusie.)

Don’t even think about it

The two of them are on top of the world, and with only a little bit more, they’ll be on the edge. No one else knows where they are. Instead, the music circulating on their veins take them away from the fact that she is with him. No one else knows that the town will forever be dripped in red starting from that night. No one else knows.

She looks at him though, as if he created the universe with his smile. Her ribcage breaks from how fast her heart beats. It is chaos to be in love with him, but she doesn’t know it yet. Tick tock — Her breathing halts  — tick tock  — after he sings her name  — tick tock  — and she thinks her whole existence will rupture —  tick tock  — with the sound of his voice. She barely hears someone screaming at the strike of midnight. And with another tick of the clock, her mind becomes a black hole.

He knows he has this effect on her, of course, and his soul rejoices with it. But does he put his lips on hers? No. Instead, he caresses her fingers slowly and softly. Then he whispers, “Like waves crashing on your shores.” He reaches for her neck, and he sucks in her smell. “Like a storm coming your way,” he continues. Then as his nose ventures from her jawline to her cheeks, he goes, “Like a gun sketching on your face.”

The night appears to be calm. Both of them appear to be calm. She appears to be calm. But —

The night feels flustered. Both of them feel aroused. She feels dizzy. And he feels victorious. He starts —

He tells her she is a treasure chest that shouldn’t be hidden from the world. So he opens her up like her insides are gold. She feels like glowing. He kisses her curves in between like knives cutting through skin. It’s a ticklish feeling, she thinks, as a satisfying warmth flows down to her stomach. He pulls her out. And if she was struggling to breathe ever since he kissed her skin, she struggles more so as her lungs die from his touch. But she still feels like glowing, as if she is the sun. She is the sun to his universe.

This time, he finally he kisses her lips as his fingers linger on her cheeks. She notes to herself that he tastes painfully delicious. He looks down on her and she blushes. She covers her heart, embarrassed that maybe he can see his own name on it. But he can see it, and so he travels in between her heartstrings, planting his teeth. He smiles at her after, and her heart stops right there. But she manages to kiss him, and she gets dizzy again. She feels him punching something, but she calls out to the universe. Her moaning harmonizes with the night’s melodies.

And then, “I’m in love with you,” comes out from her abused and wet lips as it reddens more than a red sea. “I’m in love with death,” comes out from his as he horribly presses hers together. “Then I am too,” she continues, but her words disappear with the wind’s cries.

Tick tock — There is silence, then a couple more exchange of murmured words — Tick tock.

The two of them are on top of the world, and after crawling gracefully on this starless night, she finds herself on the edge. And she falls down. No one hears her groaning as she lands on the scattered stars on the ground. No one even notices. Until everyone does. But no one knows what happened. No one.

Six hours later. Six days then. Six weeks after. No one still knows. And no one knows that someone knows. That he knows.

He remembers their last words. He remembers his heart dancing on fire. “Don’t mention it,” he says after she thanks him. He remembers her eyes bleeding and burning. “Won’t even think about it,” she says before she closes her eyes.

No one else still knows what happened that night. No one even notices his murderous eyes prying on everyone who asks him about her. Because, no one will ever admit it, but everyone is probably in love with him too. So no one else questions when he answers, “It’s suicide.”

(           k & eusie.)

hey isla. is it alright if you write me a poem? hindi ako makapagsulat ngayon eh, but i really want a poem right now. you know who this is, although we're not really close, so it's okay if you don't want to. good evening -uc

Hello UC! :) I hope you’re doing just fine. Here’s your poem (:she lies in her bed tonight staring at the ceiling, clutching her chestshe’s thinking of the last time when someone cut her chest openwith lies and false promisesbut tonight she’s afraid;she’s fragile and weaksomeone’s gonna cut her open againwith kisses leaving heartaches and the poor girl knowsshe’s about to get hurt

tell me if it doesn't suffocate you when you see his lips dance with someone else's

i’m telling you, i know the feeling (eusie.)

Fourier Series: An Almost-a-year Version

a.k.a. A Series of THIS IS FOR YOU’s

[11162013] Wow. Even the wind whispers your name.

[12012013] Sometimes, when I remember that you would never love me again, I remember to love you in silence.

[01192014] And so I wrote about you while half of my heart was aching.

[02262014] I asked yo to paint me once, but you chopped me into rhymes instead.

[03312014] I should have prepared myself for this. Now you’re stuck between my heartstrings.

[05202014] And I imagine that I can hug the moon, just as I imagine that I can hug you.

[05302014] You look at me and I swear, I almost felt your eyes bleed.

[06092014] I look at you and I swear, I almost felt the monster inside of me falling for you again.

[06172014] Please know that across the room, with 50 pairs of eyes, it’s still yours that I would want to stare at.

[07092014] I try to plaster your smile on my face just so I can fairly say that your smile is still mine.

[07172014] I’m still in love with you but I bet you don’t want me to be.

[07182014] And you’re not in love with me anymore because you don’t want yourself to be.

[09202014] When will I realize that sometimes, love is never having the one you want?

[11012014] Today is the day you died inside my heart. Hopefully.

(eusie.)

so here it is

a.k.a. and i told you, and i told you, so please listen

i told you at ten past three in the morning, we don’t have winter but when i press the end call each time you say good night, i feel a little chill as if your voice is meant to be a camp fire on cold night but instead, it’s a landslide — a hurricane — a snowstorm — and i told you at twelve past three in the morning, i should feel guilty and i should feel bad, but i don’t, and nothing ever comes pouring out of my lips, even the word ‘sorry’ each time you cry and say that it’s your fault, when really, it’s mine, and i told you at thirteen past three in the morning, i don’t feel you slipping away, but i feel myself running away, and i don’t even see myself muttering a goodbye, but i said to you, i will, oh i definitely will, and i told you at fifteen past three in the morning, i do remember when we asked each other to never let go, i do, i do, i do, and i told you at sixteen past three in the morning, i really i hope i won’t let go just like you won’t, and i wish it’s true, and i told you at eighteen past three in the morning, i’m not going to cry, but my heart is aching, and i hear myself sniffling, and i find myself looking at the mirror, with stars on my cheeks where your kisses used to sleep, and i know, i just know, that it’s been a long time since i told you i’m in love with you, and i cry again a little bit, and you’re crying too, and you’re saying sorry again, muttering it’s your fault, but it’s not, and i told you at twenty-one past three in morning, i just miss you, i long to kiss you, and i want to bury myself in your arms, and if you choose to leave me because of how these pieces of mine that are on the floor are way too shattered, your fingers will bleed, so you’ll end up giving up from saving me, i said i would be okay, because i’m a mess, and i told you at twenty-three past three in the morning, i love you, and i told you at twenty-eight past three in morning, i’m in love with you, when i finally stopped crying, when i finally calmed myself, i told it again, and you ended the call, and i told you at thirty past three in the morning, ‘it’s okay’ when you call and say sorry, and then i say it’s my fault, and then i say ‘good night’ without another ‘i love you’, and i still feel alright

(eusie.)

an interview with my neighbor

part 2: macy edwards-johansson

i knocked on the door with a force that could break my knuckles as if my heart isn't enough with all its pieces crumbled to the tiles of the doorway

please don't let this one break me again

macy wasn't always home she looks for it in certain places and from a number of persons i wouldn't want to know

"home shouldn't be about the t.v. going nuts as you rest on your couch after a long day “so you sleep instead and it should be okay “home shouldn't be being aware of the bloody smoke coming from your cigarette that will blind you from living “but you choose to give in anyway because damn it, you're already dead from all these shit happening in your life “home should be sitting on the bottom of stairs with no one to calm you down “but the walls lull to you that it's okay to cry so you cry “home, to me, is when you want to be fucked up “so your home fucks you up, but in the end, it stays beside you, unbroken and full to cope up with your brokenness and emptiness"

she wants to be loved so fucking bad i don’t know if she’ll ever get to find someone who’ll make her feel home

macy didn't respond on the first to three banging on the door

i hoped she's somewhere inside sleeping peacefully and not anywhere hugging her fingers on bottle necks, getting damn wasted

i shouted her name and then her house shrieked her door slowly danced open, revealing macy with droopy eyes

before i can even drop a phrase, she whispered gently — and i saw the universe glowing in her eyes —

“i finally found my home”

and that was all i needed for today

(eusie.)