NO LONGER IN YOUR POISON

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Thanks for the dessert
Really… thanks! Have I known that it would be the last, a thing in the past, things were too fast, you were aghast, like somehow harassed, my feelings so vast, I wished this would be everlast
Indeed you were nice, it trapped me on ice, a desolate paradise, I never knew there was a price, my efforts like precious grains of rice, you tossed a calloused dice, my spurned sacrifice, it just so happened that I won’t suffice
Borrowing Dolores’s words, I thought a world of you, an element more sublime than the morning dew, an armor to get me through, my greatest view, an abstract sole in my shoe, an end in a long line of a military queue, my heart marching on coup,  my beautiful déjà vu, the star that I look up to, my sweet apple bird waiting to ensue, the only person I’d like to be with in a rocking canoe.
Sana nga puwede na lang ako magalit sa’yo. But I can’t neglect my love and respect for you all. I’m simply yearning for you. Was this all part of the scam, ‘cuz you simply don’t give a damn. Oh man, you’re such a dead pan. Oh yeah I forgot you never give a damn. I’ve always been the gazelle chasing a lion. A worker bee hovering over a braggart dandelion. Lustfully desiring an unwanted diamond. A charm clasped in intellectual, philosophical iron. Becoming a patriotic titan. And me? A hopeful romantic at the end of the line. So if ever you decide to be with some stupid tyrant, damn sam, I’d start a riot.
I lied when I said I could handle your gigantic pride. Your pride can surpass even Bolt’s strides. Like a midnight high tide. You kept me on the outside, reluctantly replied, not even on a yuletide, your flaws amplified, your thick walls a great divide! You’re system can’t be override!
I chose you to be my soothing poison. My loving reason. And it’s killing me. Chilling and killing my precious ginger tea. You know what I mean. My feelings to you is not a hyperbole. My dream of you even just for a silver jubilee. My prideful damsel in the Caribbean sea. You will always be my lovely big foot slash banshee. And in this lifetime I guess you will never see, me.
“Never regret yesterday. Life is in you today, and you make your tomorrow.”– L. Ron Hubbard

4XRP 50

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I was waiting for an inspiration, to talk to you,
To know you again, then you came in a hazy, mountain, frenzied, tiring, midnight, funny, alcohol, cold, christmas, bureaucratic, hotel room,
Like a millennial genie in a bottle, you have glitches from foot to navel,
You’ve grown fat. You’ve aged. You’re different. You’re alive. You’re hair. You’re beautiful.
Indeed you are an image of fancy. A glorious phantasm.
You struck a conversation. How long has it been? Your finger on my hands. I couldn’t believe it.
You’re big eyes, very big eyes, shyly looking away. So how are you? Dealing with crime? With national issues? With people? With politics?
Me? I’ve become political. I might have become the thing I hate. I hate politics.
We never talked about politics.
Now we ‘re in the system.
This system.
Like any other system.
Gestures, manner of speaking, their laughter, their demeanor are all obscure.
But after being with them for quite some time, I can now imagine myself running for office someday.
Of course, this is just an imagination. I can visualize it but I hope not to do it.
I am sure you’ve seen far more worse.
It has probably toughened you up.
You used to be so naïve and fragile.
Now you’re all dolled up and ready to take on the world.
Oh how I miss you.
How terribly I miss you.
Just talking to you.
All night. All morning. All afternoon.
We talked about coffee.
We talked about life.
We talked about you and me.
To love is to burn, to be on fire – Jane Austen
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