Braces In And Out & Ellipsis

N.J.R.

please don't be another mistake. or another regret. or another memory i would want to erase.

(eusie.)

The next morning, they meander along the coastal trail for an hour or so. When the sun begins to rise, they stop to look over the water. [He] stands by the edge of the cliff, facing the sea. He — finally feeling the fatigue of the miles and the hours — is sitting with his back against a large rock.

The sunrise is a little more than a finger-smudge of pale blue, glimmering in the dark sky, but then it slowly brightens into a wide beacon of gold, like a snitch hovering on the horizon. And at last, it casts the first rays of brilliant light over the waves, outlining [him] sharply against the sky.

He stares at [his] silhouette for a long time, and it's only when [he] turns [his] head to gaze into the sun that he realises he's trying to pinpoint the exact moment he fell in love with [him].

It's a terrifying feeling. It's easy to lust after someone, to match their face to a missed heartbeat or a sharp intake of breath. It's easy to say, I want them because of the colour of their eyes, the lines of their body.

It's something else entirely to say, I want them because of the way they rest their hands on a steering wheel, the way they gaze out a window, the way they say my name.

— eleventy7, “Running on Air” (An excerpt)

HALYANG

Dear (z        a),

Sometimes you remind me of eating sweet chocolates under a night full of stars near a breathtaking view of the sea with the wind flushing our cheeks red

Because I hope you’re like a movie where you’re a happy ending and a lovely soundtrack that’s like a lullaby

But you are cigarette ashes left unwanted near the window panes and an unheard song that will always be buried deep inside my head

Because you’re like an old piano playing sadly alone in a dark room a dangerous whirl of the wind as the light of day walks away

No, no, no this shouldn’t be like a love letter

Because that would mean kisses planted on pieces of paper hoping you’ll feel them under your fingertips or each letter and phrase etched like teardrops that won’t taste salty but bittersweet romance

No, no, no this shouldn’t be a love letter

Because you deserve more than that you deserve green lights on a busy day or full breakfast served on your bed and homemade cupcakes sweet as love you deserve sunrises and sunsets beautiful as you

Caught up like a fly on a spider web I now don’t know where this river of words lead to when all I want is to witness your glory and be a torch of hope to your seemingly never-ending dark roads

My friend,

When the night eats away your life I’ll breathe into you my soul when the day abandons you during your weakness even if I can’t, even if you don’t want me to I’ll shine on you

Yours sincerely,

(eusie.)

e.e. cummings, from “because it’s Spring” (in 73 Poems), Complete Poems: 1904-1962

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.)

Where are you?

a.k.a. I’m drunk and I want to see you

With my hands in my pockets and lips full of cigarette kisses, I throw my shadows on the ground and pull them with me as I travel the city’s ups and downs. My eyes paint your face on every wall that sang a lullaby out of your name. I try to recall if your smile had always been like the fireworks on our every Fourth of July’s, or the sun setting on the background of every late afternoon of our summer lives. But the alcohol is making my memories vague that I also fail to know if I have ever felt those I love you’s coming from in between your lips were really meant for me.

The night sky shouldn't be dark blue but that’s how I see it, maybe because I feel the same way. And then the moon, just as I try to keep my gaze lock to its glow, start to dance. Now I realize that I have once compared you to it. I remember how your eyes sucked every constellation in the universe. I remember how they shined so bright once that I suddenly kissed you. But you became out of my reach now. I stop and suddenly lie down on the middle of the street. There are diamond rusts in my throat, and on my tongue, and it makes me miss the taste of you. I want to cry your name. The stars aren't present tonight just as your warmth is by my side. But the city train is awake; it makes everything smoky, unclear yet loud, just as my thoughts tonight, and just as the beat of my heart.

I breathe, “Alexandria…” I’m afraid I’m still in love with you, even if I haven’t figured it out yet if you ever felt the same way too. There are still a thousand things I haven’t told you. There are still a million things I want to show you. There is still a heartbeat throbbing inside my chest and it holds your name. “Alexandria,” I whisper as tears crawl across my cheeks. I think I had kept my doubts locked in my chest, and the key to their jailed bodies was swallowed by my blindness of loving you so much. But they don’t matter right now. And somehow... maybe... right now, it doesn't matter that you loved me or not. What matters is I believed you did. And it’s fine. It’s fine.

Then I close my eyes.

(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.)

You’ve thrown my pieces away — far from my reach that I couldn’t put myself back into whole again. Were you exhausted because I couldn’t pick them on my own? I am lost within the forest you’ve made, while you burned the gardens inside of me and disappeared. You said you won’t leave though, but you did; you left. So why, despite everything, is your voice still my lullaby? But the clock inside my room is louder, that I can’t sleep anymore. Tick, tock tick, tock — it’s 2:58 AM and my surroundings are quite troubling, and everything just seems so plangent.

What happened when you said you’ll never get tired of me? (eusie.)

Chasing Stars

Synopsis

I learned that sometimes, when soulmates meet, they’re just destined that way.

He said he’d always choose you. That he had always chose you. In every lifetime. And that you always chose him too. But this time... this time... you think you won’t because you want to fall in love with someone else.

Mga pekeng bulaklak

a.k.a. I hope we were monsters instead

For the first time, I tasted nothing from your lips and it was supposed to make me feel scared. You asked me what it feels like, I replied, “Like fairy dust” — “sweet as a fantasy dripped in purple paint, brushed against the canvass of my tongue.” And I made you smile. And I was supposed to be guilty.

For the 22nd time, your lips still tasted like alcohol. Damn, you just couldn't make my heart flutter. But I asked you what it feels like, and I hear you say —  “Like a reckless night that should trouble me but it doesn’t, instead it hushes my clamorous thoughts.” And I gave you a smile. But it wasn't really for you.

(eusie.)