ephemeraev

[ephemeraev]

生き甲斐 excerpt from the love i once knew

i want to forget—not necessarily you—but the idea of how much i loved you.

let my affection be buried and travel through the heavens, to be with the stars along the universe. if you do not want it, let the world give it back to me so i can finally have it for myself.

if i dared to say i love you, would you have risked to say it back?

in fact, would you smile and tell me how obvious i was. like an open book—a raw manuscript with no revisions and cross-outs. just reminiscing this much had my wound bleed and reopened. through the letters i sent; messages i whispered to the wind, your name was always written with a comma after the ‘dearest’. i was never particular with apostrophes, marks, and technicalities i could not discern back when writing are yet to become my voice and liberty.

it never felt embarassing loving you bare—with no facades and learnt tactics. nonetheless, you told me you felt strangled, imprisoned, and stripped of your wings. you’re not free when you’re with me.

i had so much love for you which i thought just a waste of your time and attention—too cramped and overwhelming that you decided to trash it off and leave. how lucky must i be if you wished to stay but this is just a useless prayer i cried out, written with bruised fingers, in a piece of paper i found in my unwelcoming room. for the first time i wrote about this forsaken affection, i wept until my eyes shed tears no more.

and the first time i drafted about yours—the how's of your love, i mean—i was relieved i did not dare to ask you the question i have been meaning to ask before. those are probably just baseless hope and wishful thinking that canonically had me clinging onto the false idea of us—together.

i do not resent you—for now. even though the memories you left still hunts me, even though it still lingers. slowly, hopefully, i’d finally forget—not you—but how much love i felt and gave you.

[ephemeraev]

生き甲斐 excerpt from the love i once knew

i grieve for someone who’s still alive

was i the problem? or was it the house where i spent my nights trying to kill every version of me who enjoyed laughing without feeling the lumps on my throat that kept multiplying even when i swallow my unsolicited thoughts one by one?

&.&.

i’m grieving for someone who's still alive, breathing and making their way to catch and kill the little kid they once thought that i am. loud cries and ear provoking lamentations are heard as i began on pitying myself who kept on running away from the world. what is wrong with people?

no. what is wrong with me?

i have always been wondering what mother would i greet once i get home, all tired and lost. i could not even keep myself on track for counting the egg shells on the floor covered with dust and blood from my barefoot as my father refused to buy a footwear for me to use. all i saw was a mother with tainted smile and tear with her eyes. a mother who forgot how she bore her child for months, expressing how she deeply cares for it. i lost my identity the same day as she pointed her finger at me saying how i should not have been brought to existence.

was i the problem? or was it the house where i spend my night trying to kill every version of me who enjoyed laughing without feeling the lumps on my throat that keeps multiplying even when i swallow my unsolicited thoughts one by one?

it could have been easier if i was not born at all just as how she has been telling me. counting stars and sheeps was the usual method to sleep at night for a child but it was counting the wrongs and reprimandings for me.

i’m going back home now. i wonder who should i become once i enter the home that doesn't even feel like one.

ephemeraev | v.v. // have i always been my mother's child?

[ephemeraev]

生き甲斐 excerpt from the love i once knew

i am nothing without my love for you.

&.&.

if i never loved you, you would never see me as someone that’s useful as well—you’d never look at me the same. shame on you for taking advantage of my feelings and ruining my life.

i had a glimpse of the simple truth.

it was gut-wrenching, it angered the kindest edge of my sword as it learned about the conviction of the only knife you chose to carve the aesthetics of my coffin—through my own thoughts, you had me killed in the place where i pile my repressed desire and hatred.

it was my mistake to slander the law of secrecy—i illegally stole a glance at how your brows frowned; how the skin on your forehead folded into creases; and how your mouth slightly opened yet it could not utter any syllable—when i asked about what do you know about me.

you’d number the things i am of use to you—like how i can easily maim the serpent that has been owning your endless nights; how i cut off the vines that’s holding you back. you’d list your luck, but never my truth.

never my political standing and philosophies of life nor the haste of my own cerberus. never the crater of my anger that’s only a few milliseconds away from marking the beginning of a holocaust to my delusions.

how cruel it is if i'd cast a visual impression of a foreign book with no hardcovers and a letter of acknowledgement, even though the rolling dice mandated me to act the role of a diary for you.

would you see me as stranger if i knew how your eyes would squint from laughing too much?

ephemeraev | would you?

[ephemeraev]

生き甲斐 excerpt from the love i once knew

what am i if not a shattered poet?

&.&.

i wanna believe that i will still be able to thread a piece that bursts a rollercoaster emotion of vibrant colors and sunshine, that i can still capture a great photo of happiness in its brightest form but all this burden of unexplainable chaos inside my head makes me wanna question everything. i am nothing but dull and ruined.

you are to blame for it. that the selenophilic side of me no longer brings solace to my table. i could not suppress the residing demon within me whom i have sworn to unleash the moment you speak about forgiving and the remnants of my adoration for you. no one ever showed me the way to the doors of their affection unapologetically and that includes your very own existence. how i wish you walked me through it without the God of insincerity’s judgment, wishing you had erased all the hints of jealousy, anger, and inferiority in your eyes as you could never love and be envious at the same time and if love is a pit of darkness, you’d fit to rule its kingdom. after you, i wondered when i will be able to write a piece that doesn’t hurt again. one that won’t depict how i am burned to ashes, wasted into thin air, and crushed into pieces by the raging fire of dangling chains— the shrieks of its metal tangles as it scorch the layers of thick and strong scales of snake i used to fortify my soul— it’s no use though. i still got tired, blasted, and battered beyond recognition. the skin i borrowed had rotted along with my life to the point that it could never go back to the shadow of its former proprietor. you already got my papers crumpled and tainted. so tell me now, how can i stop if my pen wants to keep bleeding the way my heart does— if all i am is a shattered poet?

ephemeraev// who am i if not a shattered poet?

[ephemeraev]

生き甲斐 excerpt from the love i once knew

i hate the fact that you still occupy the sanity that's left in me

&.&.

the fact that you still hold a special place in my heart— even after forcing myself to abolish the space you filled, it kept on coming back as if it had a life on its own. it brings me a false notion that what we had was genuine and that in similar situation, you hold onto the last threads of our memories together as well.

“if you dreamt of something in your sleep, you probably did not have a comfortable one.” yet, i had you in my dreams. along the heavy breathing of my lungs and placid body composition— there was you. i can still vividly remember how i never wanted for your fingers to slip away from mine. i could never call that a nightmare as there was no hesitation nor fear in the depth of your eyes when you spoke about how the rainy season felt warm because my arms were there to embrace you. we did a lot of things in my dream— those that i wished to do with you through the corridors of reality. in my deep slumber, i talked to your mother and called her the way you do. i told her about my favorite songs she might wanna listen to, she held my hand and told me how she’s glad you are with me. i can’t help but wonder— is this the same caress full of motherly love that held you as a child? i was swayed with the thoughts of how my dearest were raised by those hands. my dream was a series of flashing narratives but in all scenario, i never let your grip slip away from mine— i refused to let you go this time. i know it wasn’t you. i was well aware that all i saw was a version of you i desperately made at the back of my head, it is the one i sought to read along the traces of you— the rummaging fear irked in every inch of my skin as i saw the familiar ceiling i’ve been dealing with since forever. i tried go back and but all i saw was pitch black— darkness. in that moment, i saw my death, once again. remembering how you said that, if a person dreamt of something in their sleep, they probably did not have a comfortable one, had my body burn in sorrow and my urges hustling to hold onto the “you” i made inside this empty head of mine again. even in the facades of my imagination or day dreaming. i would dare to dream of you over and over even at the expense good rest. but if you ever come to the decision of visiting me. please, let it not be in my sleep.

ephemeraev// you were mine again for a moment.

[ephemeraev]

生き甲斐 excerpt from the love i once knew

here’s the love as what they call “unconditional”

&.&.

countless unsuccessful relationship often make people realize their worth and what they truly deserve— they learned not to cling to those that aren’t meant for them. i’m one of those people— if you’re not for me, it’s okay.

sooner or later‚ you’ll be tired of me.

however‚ i won’t wish for you to stay.

i won’t expect you to treat me like home. ‘cause when the time comes‚ there’s undeniable fact that you were never mine.

ephemeraev// love as what they call ‘unconditional’

[ephemeraev]

生き甲斐 excerpt from the love i once knew

a betrayal of one’s own shadow

&.&.

will always feel wrong and will hurt us in every possible way it can— it happens when we still forgive after being lied to over and over, gritting under the pressure of countless doubts, and swallowing daggers of other people’s pride— we should’ve been our own ally.

just apologize, don’t think about anything else other than how to make things right, don’t waste your time thinking about how embarrassing it was to make me wait for you out in the pouring rain for hours, don’t get torn between the need to mend the broken fibers of my barely beating heart and the if’s of whether you deserve a second chance or not, just apologize, you see, i’m an idiot, so, i’d come running back at you immediately even before you complete the letters of an insincere apology, i‘d blindly accept your reasons, some could say it’s a trauma response— and i know it too well, you’re becoming a massive trigger— and i hate it, i hate that you’re becoming one so just apologize.

[ephemeraev]

生き甲斐 excerpt from the love i once knew

the things i could’ve done suddenly occurred to me

&.&.

on later seasons of our lives, we’ll reflect through the decisions we made when we were younger— that’s when we will feel either series of regrets or an exaggerated urge to go back in time to change and do the things we could’ve done. we wish to turn back the time to make our future better.

it wasn’t our memories, neither the ‘love’ between you and i. it was your pride and selfishness that drove me away. you once told me that i should accept you for who you are, and just like what you said, i did. only if i knew that accepting you would mean that i am neglecting myself— i could have stopped midway.

ephemeraev// things i should’ve done.

[ephemeraev]

生き甲斐 words that ended up waltzing on paper

i knew that love is the loudest when it’s real

&.&.

even in syllables and phrases, you’d never have to ask for the metaphors and symbolism’s meaning as it would sway with your heart, dance in the rhythm of the poem’s fine tunes brought by each letter— it would be too loud that your soul would easily know that what’s written is filled with love and affection.

once, a scribbler can’t bring himself to craft enticing poems solely for her, he can’t even lift a pen to start drafting phrases, to spell out how much the beauty of her shadows affect the way he polish his arts, ‘twas a curse to utter those words, owing to the fact that deep inside his soul, he was searching for right terms, to define details of her surreal smile, perhaps, him relying on simple phrases shan’t count anymore— for only one reason, she was more than what those words could state, she should never be compared to nothingness as she’s already alluring, bewitching when completely understood, the poem he had been meaning to read, for once, there’s no need to scribble tons of poem, full of fetching lines and syllables, for she— is a masterpiece crafted by time.

ephemeraev// i wrote a poem for you once.

[ephemeraev]

生き甲斐 words that ended up waltzing on paper

people kept on forgetting that life isn’t ours to begin with.

&.&.

and it takes toll at a time we never expected the most— we get into war with our mind and soul and greedily think that we have all the right to decide where we want to end up— in the pit of darkness or above everyone else. it’d either we die in despair or in great satisfaction.

i’ve always known, the ticks of the clock, the chimes of the wind, who whispers, “who are you— to be alive?” i’ve always known, the smell of books, the scent of blood, who says, “is there a reason for you to live?” i’ve always known, the extent of my sin, the degree of my crime, who justifies, i shouldn’t be alive.

ephemeraev// he who defies the law of life.

[ephemeraev]

生き甲斐 mga ideyang bitbit ng takipsilim

‘di lahat ay natatapos sa isang tuldok

&.&.

maraming pamamaraan kung paano natin dapat tapusin ang isang bagay. hindi lamang sa pamamagitan ng tuldok, pagsara, o pag-iwan nito sa ere— katulad na lamang ng kung paano natin isinasauli ang lapis sa pencil case, itinutuwid ang pahina ng libro na ating itinupi pagkatapos basahin, at kung paano natin isinasara ang bintana sa hapon na ating ibinubukas tuwing umaga.

may mga salitang masakit, kadalasan nga, sumasapaw pa sa tonong mapait. hindi rin mabilang sa daliri ang mga tugmaan na ipinipilit sa ‘di kumpletong parirala na halos lahat ‘ata ng tinik ng isdang ninakaw mula sa piling ng karagatan ay nakaipit. naisin ko mang sumigaw o ‘di kaya’y tumakbo, hindi p’wede. wala naman akong ibang alam na paraan upang makaalpas mula sa mainit na yakap ng nakakasulasok na usok kundi magpigil ng hininga at pumikit. at dahil malabo ang maaring simbolo ng tuldok: isa, para sa pagtatapos na may pahintulot; dalawa, para sa salitang nakaligtaan na ilahok; at kapag tatlong tuldok, para naman ito sa hindi siguradong pagtatapos ng sigalot— hindi na magkamayaw ang mga hibla ng magkahalong pagkakamali sa isip ko. sa labis na pagkalito, ni hindi ko na nagawa pang makatakas, hindi kasi ako sigurado kung alin sa tatlo ang nararapat para sa sitwasyon na mayroon ako. nanatili akong nakapikit, ang mga pawis ay nanlalamig dahil sa patuloy na pagpipigil ng hininga. malapit nang manlambot ang mga tuhod ko nang biglang sumagi sa isip ko ang huling habilin ng ale na pinagbilhan ko ng posporo sa kalye, sabi niya, “marapatin mong mamili sa tatlo, dalawa o isa. piliin mo ang paniguradong bubuo sa diwang matagal mo nang hinihintay at tuldukan mo ang parirala.” bago pa ako tuluyang mawala sa ulirat ay naalala kong tinapik pa niya ako ng dalawang beses sa balikat at binanggit ang bilang na mga salita ngunit sapat para tuluyan na akong makawala mula sa nakakasulasok na yakap ng naglalagablab na usok ng apoy na aking sinimulan. “huwag mong ipunin ang mga salitang katumbas ay sintensya.”

ephemeraev// sintensiyang parirala.

[ephemeraev]

生き甲斐 mga ideyang bitbit ng takipsilim

“ang katahimikan ay katotohanan.”

&.&.

ngunit hindi pala sa araw-araw— hindi pala sa tuwina ay maiintindihan nila na ang katahimikan ay simbolo ngkatototahanan pagiging totoo— sa wari ko’y naubos na ang kanilang pasens’ya kaka-antay na isaboses ko ang mga bagay na inaasam nilang isambulat ko. ngayon ko lamang napagtanto na hindi pala lahat ng nasa paligid ko ay maiintindihan na kung minsan ay tatakasan ako ng boses na handog sa akin ng langit bilang regalo.

“hindi ko na binubuksan ang journal ko.” natatandaan ko pa noon, nakakuha ako ng A5 na kuwaderno sa taas ng aparador doon sa lumang k’warto ng nanay ko. mistula pa nga itong listahan ng mga utang at numero ng mga hindi ko kilalang poncio pilatto. pinilas ko lahat, bigla ko kasing naisip magsulat. ang mga una hanggang sa ikatlong akda, doon nakatala ang mga siphayo ng hangin sa marahuyo kong damdamin— ang pagiging mas malabo pa sa sinag ng buwan na natatakluban ng mga ulap ang panahon na magiging abot-kamay kita. minsa’y inilathala ko doon kung paano umurong ang mga balahibo ko sa braso nang unang beses kong masilayan ang pagkislap ng iyong mata sa tuwing inaabot ito ng mga ngiti sa labi mo. kulang ang salitang anghel para ilarawan ka. hindi naman pala malabong mahawakan ko ang kamay mo. pinagbigyan ako pero sa pinaka-nakakahiyang paraan. gusto ko na ngang bumalik sa sinapupunan ng ina ko noong mahuli mo akong nagsusulat ng tula sa kwardernong bitbit ko kahit saan. “ikaw, ah. gusto mo pala ako.” hindi ako nakaimik— tama nga sila na ang katahimikan ay katotohanan. ipupusta ko ang lahat ng lapis sa bahay, alam kong alam mo. ang mga susunod na pahina ay nalukot, hindi dahil lumangoy ito sa washing machine ni mama. nabasa kasi ng ulan— iniwan ko sa tabi ng kalsada no’ng makita kong may hinahabol ka sa kabilang tanaw— ilang beses sa isang taon kung maligo ako sa ulan pero ngayon ko lang nakilala ang malungkot na bersyon nito. minsan ba, sumagi sa isip mo na basahin lahat ng nakalapis sa journal ko? hindi ko na binubuksan ang journal ko. bukod sa wala ng espasyo para sa panibagong akda, wala na rin naman kasi akong isusulat pa. hindi ka pala maalam magbasa ng mga tayutay tulad ng metapora. hindi mo pala gusto kapag hindi direkta kung magsalita. dapat pala umimik ako noon pagkat hindi mo batid na ang katahimikan ay katotohanan.

ephemeraev// nasa k’warto, isinusulat ang huling prosa para sa’yo.

[ephemeraev]

生き甲斐 mga ideyang bitbit ng takipsilim

para sa walang katapusang “bakit?”

&.&.

sa araw-araw nating pakikipagbuno sa mundo, unti-unti ring napupuno ang kahon ng ating mga katanungan at nangunguna na rito ang mga tanong na nagsisimula sa salitang “bakit—”, karamihan dito ay pinaglalaanan natin ng hindi lang oras kundi taon para lamang masagot— ngunit sa kamalas-malasan ay nadaragdagan pa ang bigat ng kahon na hindi natin mabitaw-bitawan.

“pagod na ako,” sabi ko. tinanong mo ako, “bakit?” “hindi ko rin alam,” sagot ko, totoo naman. sa dalawampu’t-apat na oras na lumilipas, wala naman akong kilos na ginawa, para tumumbas sa napapagod kong diwa, kahit lambatin mo ang hangin na pumapasok sa kaloob-looban ng kahon kung saan nakasilid ang taimtim na mga dalangin at hiling, hindi mo makukuha ang sagot sa tanong mo na siya’ng tanong ko rin. hindi ko na rin kasi alam— kapag ibinusla ang mga salitang “ayos ka lang ba?” malilipon ko ang lahat ng posibleng sagot ngunit wala ni isa roon ang aakma. paano nga ba ako napapagod? kailan ako nawalan ng gana? bakit ko pa ipinipilit subaybayan ang mga natitirang oras bago sumilay muli sa bintana ang liwayway ng panibagong petsa na alam kong nakalaan para sa iba.

ephemeraev// paoy sa lilim ng mga ‘bakit’

[ephemeraev]

生き甲斐 mga ideyang bitbit ng takipsilim

“gising ka sa bawat pagkakasala niya.”

&.&.

hindi ko man lubos maintindihan ang takbo ng isip ng mga tao, alam ko na nasa pagitan lamang tayo ng pagiging bulag at pagiging mulat— ngunit may ibang uri pala ng tao, iyong gising na gising sa katotohanan ngunit mas pinipili na maki-ayon sa bawag pagliyab ng kasalanan ng sanlibutan— iyong itinatago ang sangsang ng dugo’t laman sa ilalim ng hindi payak at huwad na pananampalataya.

[strong use of language ahead: profanities] nakita mo ba? tagaktak ang pawis niya, wari ko ay may ginawa na namang hindi tama. mula nang iangkla niya ang sarili sa silid na dapat ay espasyo para makapagpahinga ang aking dikit sa balat na diwa, kailanman ay hindi ako tinakasan ng ulirat habang ilang ulit niyang pilit pinapasok ang tarangkahan ng katauhan ko— kahit ilang beses kong ipinagdasal sa isang dosena na peke mong santo at santisima na kung mamarapatin ay tusukin na lamang nila ako ng punyal sa dibdib habang namamagitan ang patuloy na pandadarag ng t*nginang ito sa kaibuturan ng aking mundo. pasens’ya ka na. hindi ko yata matatarak sa bawat pahina ng buhay ko ang ipinipilit mong pagsamba at pagtangkilik sa mga palabit na libo-libong kasinungalingan ng tinatawag mong bahay-dasalan. kung magtatantos ng kasalanan sa kapirasong papel, mauubos ang espasyo nito para sa’yo— hihigit pa sa bilang ng mga halang na kaluluwa, ang mga mapagbalat-kayo na niluluhuran mo. lumuluhod din ako gabi-gabi, ngunit hindi para ialay ang lahat ng saloobin ko sa panginoon na gawa-gawa mo. nagsilbi akong alay para sa dem*nyo na iyong pinagkalooban ng sapin sa paa, binihisan nang sa gayon ay magmukhang kaaya-aya bilang tao. sa anumang legal na pagsusuri ay sagana pa rin sa paglangoy ang mga pikit-matang nilulunok ang ilan lamang sa kagag*han ng mga labis pa sa labis ang kadiliman ang bungo— ikaw, nakita mo, pero hindi ka pumikit. tumawa ka. umupo ka sa tapat ng bakod ko, pinanood mo. gustong-gusto na kita bulagin nang makita ko ang pagbahid ng imoral na pagdaplis ni satanas sa repleksyon ng iyong dalawang mata. kinabukasan, bumwelta ka sa mga kapwa mo hipokrita, naglalagablab rin ang kanilang mga umaalingasaw na bunganga, nag-aapoy pa sa sobrang liga— pinangalankadan mo kung gaano kahusay sumayaw sa ibabaw ng katre ang bago mong asawa. aba, ginang na hipokrita, punong-puno ka naman ng gras’ya. anak ng dep*ta— ako ‘yon. anak ako ng p*ta, ako na mismong iniluwal mo mag-isa doon sa nakatagong ospital ng san antonio. hindi ako rehistrado. wala akong pagkakakilanlan at walang bitbit na apelyido. kaya nang matapos ang ilang gabing pagriritwal at patuloy na pag-sayaw sa katre, hindi nila matukoy ang ngalan ng nakahandusay, walang buhay, at punong-puno ng latay na binatang itinapon sa talahiban malapit sa tinutuluyan ng mga madre.

ephemeraev// talababa ng halang na kaluluwa sa paningding.

[ephemeraev]

生き甲斐 narratives from the oldest drawer

it’s okay to be lost sometimes

&.&.

as you will eventually find your way back— it doesn’t matter if you stumble down and could no longer keep up with the past-paced growth of your surroundings. this life may be borrowed, but for now, it’s yours yo shape. you may have all the time in the world to create a path that will feel right for you, so it’s alright not to follow the crowd strolling on a same road.

“I think I’m afraid.” Tumingin lang siya saglit sa mata ko bago muling ibinaling ang paningin sa kalangitan habang hawak-hawak ang isang tasa ng kape na tinimpla niya kanina. She didn’t respond but I know she wants me to continue talking. “All my friends got their goals organized. They know what they want and where they wanna go. I watched them achieve the things they’ve been longing to have and I’m happy for them.” Pinagsalikop ko ang dalawa kong kamay at pinaglaruan ang mga daliri kong nanlalamig. “Naiinggit ako. As someone who always crave for growth and development, parang hindi naman ako umuusad. Kapag gustong-gusto ko ang mga ginagawa ko, saka dumarating ang mga bagay na pumipigil sa ‘kin para gawin ‘yon. Sa tuwing sumusuko na ako, saka naman naglilipana ang mga dapat kong habulin at abutin.” I paused after I felt a huge lump on my throat, prohibiting me from talking freely. “I want to explore the world but I’m afraid to step out of my comfort zone. Natatakot akong maligaw. Envy consumes me and I know it’s rude to harbor these kind of feelings—” “No, it’s not.” and there she finally stopped being silent.

“No one should ever tell you not to feel envious of their growth not even yourself and it’s alright to be afraid. Magiging mali lang kapag wala kang ginawa para magbago. Kapag patuloy ka lang nanood kung paano nila abutin ang mga pangarap nila at hayaan ang sa iyo na maglaho.” tinanggal niya ang pagkasalikop ng dalawang kamay ko at ikinulong ito sa palad niyang may malamyos na init galing sa tasa ng kape. “We’re humans. Don’t punish yourself for something you cannot control. Uusad ka, I know you will.” “I can still feel the fear rushing through my veins. Paano kung hindi ako makasabay sa kanila?” kung gaano kalakas ang hangin ay siya namang kasing-hina ng boses ko. “You don’t have to be on the same page as them. You have to create your own pace. ‘Yong may katamtamang tulin na hindi ka hihingalin, marahang alon na hindi ka lulunurin, at masuyong hangin na hindi ka iiligaw.” yumuko na lang ako at pinakiramdaman ang unti-unting pagbalot ng malamlam na init sa kamay ko.

ephemeraev// narito sa teresa nagkakape.

[ephemeraev]

生き甲斐 excerpt from the love i once knew

i’ve always wanted you to understand

&.&.

i let my guard down. i was too drowned in your presence that i forgot you never had it in your sleeve to study even the single leaf from the vase of flowers in my room— i kept a hand-crafted journal telling a story of your messy eating habits, the beauty of your frowns when frustrated, and the hatred you had for your father. i knew it all. i gave my all and was defeated defenselessly.

“you did not know me too well.” as a kid, i liked codes, ciphers, and mysteries, i liked things that needs to be studied thoroughly, those that intrigues someone’s interest, i fell in love. it manifested in my entire soul, until it could not stop from loving the miseries in the subtle hue of yellow in your eyes, i was fond of it. i was bound by the strings of wonder. i tried deciphering you and i, as the most unfortunate curious, was the only one who did. i am at it, every day and night, i did not realize that i am also a code, i need deciphering too but you never glanced at any concept of mistery, you did not know me too well as it was not your dream to master the art of ciphers.

ephemeraev// decoding a misery.

[ephemeraev]

生き甲斐 excerpt from the love i once knew

i was angry until my tears started to fall

&.&.

i couldn’t fill the void inside my heart whenever there is something i should be angry about— i couldn’t entirely feel the rage because the tears had its own life and couldn’t hold itself back, the lump on my throat are prohibiting me to speak up— and suddenly, i forgot the reason why i sought for my rage to exist. all i see was a helpless version of me at the brink of death.

“i could never forget the rage that turned itself into tears.”

it was the same cold and rainy night. the chills are like needles that stubbornly want to pierce through my skin. the drops of rain are like metal spears that tries to unalive the already lifeless roof, enough for a deafening noise to resonate in a room so dark, i couldn't even breathe. i had nothing—no blanket nor thick clothes to keep the familiar warmth from leaving.

what promises did you whisper in my sleep for me to feel all betrayed like this? i remembered something i should not have. in the midst of the rain falling on a metal roof, i hear your voice calling my name. i yearn for the soothing voice that sealed over half of my life as yours.

just what did you do for me to get hurt like this? all i had were numb fingers and clouded judgment—i couldn’t think straight. all i did was hurt my head to stop thinking about why you closed your eyes when you saw the bloodshot in mine. all the love i had for you turned into rage, and i couldn’t go back. i couldn’t write your name without thinking of stabbing the paper with the pen i used multiple times.

my stomach is grumbling from all that screaming and swearing because i took the storm as an opportunity to let my bottled up emotions run away. it was all rage in tears—i was gasping for the air i lost while screaming and cursing your name under the presence of lightning and thunder. i never knew that the affection i had for you would easily turn to rage— i dared to use your name i deemed beautiful, as the most profane language in my vocabulary. i cursed. i wished. i hoped to never cross the same bridge as you again.

ephemeraev// i loved the way you say my name.