To The Girl with the Pink Bow

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I took this photo during our gala night last Cinemalaya XI. I never thought I’ll be writing this post for you. I was supposed to give you a handwritten letter when we graduate but I can’t do that now…

To the girl with the pink bow,

Where are you now?

Are you up in the sky,

Painting rainbows and taking photographs of the moon?

 

To the girl with the messy brown hair,

What are you doing now?

Are you on top of the clouds,

Skating and doing cartwheels?

 

To the girl with hugs as warm as summer,

How are you now?

Are you stuffing yourself with Oreos,

With that stirring smile of yours?

 

To the girl with a heart as huge as Jupiter,

I wish you could have stayed.

I wish I could rewrite the past few months of your life,

And fill it with happiness, love and care.

 

To the girl with the pink bow,

Where are you now?

Please tell us you are somewhere beautiful,

Somewhere with chirping birds and colorful flowers.

 

To the girl with the pink bow,

Please come home.

 

***

 

This is dedicated to you, Jameng. Thank you for being a part of my life. Thank you for all the wonderful memories. I wish I could turn back and look at them with a smile on my face. But right now, all I could muster is a sad smile.

I love you, Jameng. You were a great EP and an even greater friend. I promise, we will see each other again. I love you, Tita EP! Alam mo yan. Sana nga, alam mo yan.

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For The Missing Sun

Photo taken from Tumblr. All rights reserved to its proper owner.

Photo taken from Tumblr. All rights reserved to its proper owner.

Brave, little girl,
Wipe away your tears
The rain is sensing your fears.

Strong, little girl,
Now, cease your howling
For the wind is approaching.

Sweet, little girl,
Please try to look up.
The sky’s not going to stop

For you, my dear–
Is a survivor,
And loneliness is just a little bastard.

Shine, my darling,
You are the bright sun.
You, are the promise of a new beginning.

So, shine and burn.
Blind us with your light,
Free your sorrows from its cage and burn–just burn.

Ma bonne étoile: My Lucky Star

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Photo taken from Tumblr. All rights reserved.

There was once a little girl who loves gazing at the stars. Every night, she would lie on her back and watch them. She would tell them stories and sing them melodies. Once she finished spilling her heart to the open sky, she would close her eyes and wish for her very own star.

One night, as the little girl gazed upon the stars with her gray and hopeful eyes, she noticed a lone star on the west of the moon. It was just a little speck in the night sky but for the girl, it was the prettiest star she have ever seen. It never made sense to her now, but her little self back then was convinced that she was utterly and completely in love with the star.

Years passed, and the little girl grew up. Still, she gazed on her window every night, faithfully watching her “star.” She would read poetry to it and consistently painted it on her lips, wrists and fingers. In her head, heart and life.

“They are only gas, you know. And some of them are even dead.” A boy told her.

But she did not listen. She continued to talk to her star and the star continued to glow. Her whole life unconsciously turned into a cycle yet, she does not see this.

A bunch of years passed and the girl quickly grew into a woman. But unlike before, her smile lost its radiance. Before, you would see in her eyes a thousands of stories waiting to be told but now, only the remains of failed relationships and broken promises resides in there. She was slowly losing hope for her reunion with her “star.” The woman felt foolish for trusting it. For believing that it could literally sweep her off her feet and bring her to paradise.

This was when she started to blame her misery to the same thing that gave her solace: stars. The only thing she could muster to it was the inevitable question: “Why?” But the star only glowed in response.

Silently, the woman fell on a deep black hole. She did these for a countless of months. Five? Six? She does not know. She does not care.

But one night, the girl decided to gaze at the stars for one, last time.

“For old times’ sake.” The woman said.

“They are only gas, you know? And some of them are even dead.” A voice whispered behind her.

The woman knew that voice. It was a voice from long ago. A voice she did not expect to hear again. She spun around and looked at the man standing before her. She looked at his almost-but-not-quite familiar face.

“For old times’ sake?” The man asked.

The girl gazed at his eyes and smiled.

There was no need for words for at that moment, she felt like the whole universe was standing before her.

~fin~

Apples, Words and Music

Photo taken from Tumblr. All rights reserved.

Photo taken from Tumblr. All rights reserved.

I met a girl on the street,

She’s apples, words and music.

Like red apples, she was sweet

Her gaze quite therapeutic.

 

Once again I saw the girl,

A crown of quotes on her head.

These words are worth more than pearls,

Was the first thing that she said.

 

Again I saw her singing,

Losing herself piece by piece.

To the music she’s pleading,

For the heavy tides to cease.

 

I met a girl in my dreams,

She’s apples, words and music.

She’s radiant as the sun’s beam,

Only now, her heart’s fleeing.