thistimelasttuesday

[thistimelasttuesday]

breakout on my skin

i'm deliberately evading

you and your gaze to

preserve whatever dignity

i have with my sharp tongue,

as you fondly call it,

in a lingering memory

from when we were 17.

i was so bright, and you

were the love of my life.

now, you've got your boyfriend

and i've got a collection

of baseball hats and books

that make up for growing up.

my god, i really thought i could

become anything i ever wanted

but now i work at an office,

with my breath shallow and wet.

why did you leave me?

and when did you go?

in your absence, i am left

with white noise that colors

acid yellow when i shudder.

then, waves of soul flutter

as i grasp at the flashes of

you, all over me, like fairy lights,

and when we played CDs of

playlists i burned by myself

on my discman i touted around.

black hair was still up to my jaw,

uniform skirt with shorts under.

don't you wish you were

back with me like this?

don't you wish we could

go through the motions

as uncool as we did before?

[thistimelasttuesday]

You go ahead and say,

"You're not like the other girls"

and I chuckle to reply,

"I'm going to kill you."

Don't be ridiculous, I am

very much so, like every girl,

I touch my hair when

I get shy and worry

about being perceived.

There truly are far better

people than me so thank you

for the chastisement,

but I am uselessly self-aware.

And yet, if I

tickle your neck

with the tip of a sword

and you tell me that

you find me the prettiest

when I'n slashing at the world.

I'll say, "That's stupid"

and open the court.

If, with doe eyes, and

character like cider,

you continue to pursue

this fool's errand to the end,

then maybe I can let you know

one thing:

all I want is money,

someone to hold me,

and a fucking break.

and i assure you, i

sincerely mean this.

i am a loss of profit,

a three and six of clubs

from a two card draw,

a name your mother

will never remember.

so don't say i didn't

warn you, although, my expression

says otherwise, it is

one that implores and

coaxes for a bad ending.

so then, what shall it be?

will you prance away

out of the thicket?

or, out of adoration,

will you keel at my

feet like a dragon slayer?

[thistimelasttuesday]

because i named you

after something playful

i can't believe how i cry

at the thought of you now.

every night, my bed knows

how much i'll miss you.

a love as pure and silly

as the one that sprung with you

rivals the santan bushes

where your cat friends hide.

your perked ears at the

jingle of the gate,

the olympic jumps and

scratches on the floor.

your small body in my hand.

your eyes like boba,

and how they watch me

in the darkness of the living room

when i get water at night.

i wonder if you understand

what i mean with this.

i never knew i could care

in such a capacity

that loss, even the mere idea,

causes me to sorrow.

i wanted to make sure

that someone in this void

and endless life knew

that in our post-adolescent home,

your needy calls, your dramatics

warmed us all in an

unspeakable, unwritable way.

my baby, my joy,

how can i let anyone know

what it was like to have you?

even up to now, i choke up

at the little spiders and

cockroaches you will chase

that i won't be able to see

and call you "dumb one" over,

and my dad won't be able to bellow

"intelligent being!" at your

longing figure by the terrace.

but today, i'll knit you lots of toys

and say "you eat so much,

my sweet, have some more!"

i don't know what else to say

except that this is an attempt

to tell God, how futile it all is,

but a frisky character

that plops down and sighs

in the corner of our kitchen,

with his earnest demeanor

sleeps next to our ate

who is frying fish on the stove,

makes it sparkle with delight.

[thistimelasttuesday]

apologies to future me

please forgive me for still

parsing language after language

about how everything is

and isn't anymore, unable

to move to somewhere green.

i feel most sorry now

that i've spent all of this time

asleep and yet find no rest.

only ache for an embrace,

or the shoulder of a stranger.

forgive me if you have

crow's feet from my eagerness

to let my friends know

"you are the funniest"

"i'm glad to be here"

"what a surreal couple years

it's been, hasn't it?"

i've always disliked how

my nose flattened when

i laughed, but forgive me

for doing it often now,

hoping someone might see.

i hope you forgive me

for funding yet another

self-taught hobby, but

i actually think i'm

quite good at knitting,

weaving purple illusions to make

a great big scarf to wear

for this dreadful winter.

would you like one?

as a promissory note?

for no stolen summer kisses or

buzzing nights out with friends,

laughing at how our shadows

dance on the sidewalk.

i'm sorry i'm still nothing at 22.

what i have right now are just

inventions, dusty film tapes

rotating and rotating,

figures made faintly by a

flashlight in the dark.

forgive me for the chip

on your shoulder,

and needing to buy

new jeans for new thighs.

i don't know what happened,

just that when life could be

tasty, it was easy for me

to just keep swallowing.

sorry for the bad eyesight,

i write poetry with my phone

to my face, and snicker

at isekai anime, and watch

my sunday school kids

grow up on Facebook,

my classmates in their

new jobs, myself

connected to a world

that felt a semblance

of the one we had before.

i'm sorry i became an ENFP

during quarantine, it's just

that when the test asked

if I liked large crowds,

my heart softened at the

memory of a live concert.

it sounds pathetic, and i

actually think it is,

but i hope you can extend

a little patience over how

i am trying my best.

but if you could lie down

in an expanse of grass,

somewhere that smells

like sampaguitas and be

able to whisper a pardon

for me with content resignation,

then perhaps, that vindicates

all of this,

all that has transpired.

[thistimelasttuesday]

the rain this afternoon

is a sick elderly man

who groans in his chambers.

he is alone and the window

is misted by his exhales.

he coughs, thick phlegm

along with a sudden shiver

i feel on the floorboards,

and endless downpour

of salty tears, clinging

on rooftops and trees,

rolling until the asphalt

perfumes the atmosphere.

let it all out, good sir.

i raise tissues to the sky.

today is just a bad day and

nothing can really stop that.

it comes, despite the vitamins

or moments in meditation.

even the sun in her turn

sometimes, clumsily

rolls over the horizon.

even perfect people

cannot fully prepare

for a bad fall.

so i'm just saying,

let it all out, good brethren.

the bad days follow

month after month,

what else can we do

but pray for a break,

a cloudless morning,

or some time to stand under it

to feel, in the least bit, tall.

[thistimelasttuesday]

I don't know if it's exhaustion

but press this part of my neck

feel how cold the little coils are.

In this posture, I am so

embarrassingly vegetative,

withered string bean, won't you

sit with your back straight?

But this shape is how I reel

from my thrilling life so far.

What great thing is there

to hold my head high up for?

Millipede kid, I remember myself

watched them all squirming in a jar;

floated them on paper boats

made from last week's homework.

"Grab on", I whisper as I push

them down our street's canals,

then later, on my finger

their million arms make for me

a ring, a priest's blessing,

clutching on to live.

I find more of them under a log

older than my family's home;

the fresh earth, zany, deep, and alive

keep them all, crawling in the open

long and free, stretched all the way out.

I wonder when I can return,

and lie back fully, as well,

burrowing in the soft ground.

[thistimelasttuesday]

enough of the wily antics

there are, obviously, greater women than i

doe eyes, character like grape cider

if you want them not, then i will

but there, you see, is no contest

i am the menacing shrew

and my sword elongates to tickle your throat

as a challenge, a knowing look

a misfortune you should take

this moment that you have caught my eye

but what dance will you do that i find you

coming along my way?

though only then, if you stand me down

will i consider lowering anything

humor me and look around

tell me, is it worth winning?

you must know it is vain to brave

this fool's errand you take to and fro

will you jingle back to your little cave?

or will you perish by my feet like a hero?

no pirate's gold or cursed gems hide

no bubble witch's magic spell

that serendipitously changes inside

will be won after all and high hell

but, don't you agree, that it would be

a worthy tale to tell by the fire

so take your gallant step and see

what films we shall inspire

[thistimelasttuesday]

i have read verse upon verse upon verse of the daylight in august,

and i think i can see it from the window of where i sit

i am lying in bed next to my computer

i have been evading work from home for two hours now

and since no one is barking for me

no bell rings and yet i look at the trees uneasily

everything looks so evergreen

i can feel the pancakes in my stomach

and thinking about ways i can be free

from something good yet hopeless

i am honored by it while being hit with a bat to the throat

how desperate i am for a bright future that will become poetry filled to the brim with vibrant and effervescent images

that feel warm in my cheeks!

like cold milk and sweet cereal in the morning!

but it is not this year, nor the next

not with the pandemic stretching longer and longer

and finding happiness becomes more and more like a fruitless endeavor

august warmth shines down on me

and i am a dumb piece of earth

that whines over my mellow emotions

i blink at artificial screen light and only peek through the fluttering of the curtain

is this your first time? hopelessness asks.

i shake my head and feel, unjustified.

[thistimelasttuesday]

if nothing changes, nothing gets better

what kind of life is this that im scared 1 PM is already too late

there is a little hut by the attersee where mahler wrote a symphony i really liked

in a quiey place no one would suspect

i know it's ridiculous but sometimes when i upload something on Instagram, i ask myself to be cool, but really, it also feels like being at the lowest part of the void, screaming for help, but like in the coolest, less desperate way i can

there are people i try not to talk to

people who,

when notified of a parasite that

shreds your innards for the long haul,

will reply:

who doesn't?

i've had one since i was fourteen.

i never let anyone know.

i'm sorry

why do you have to win against me?

isn't it tragic already

that we are both dying?

dinuguan

im shoveling pork blood down my throat

i say it like that to sound too much

but it really is my dinner

it makes me think how im

at that point life where i just keep

swallowing everything

mushy and mangly and cartilagey

that comes my way

the key is to not think

or not linger on it

or not look around for help

because the only sight to see

is the people you love

their hand gesturing you

to keep wolfing it up

gently, cupping up, up, up

[thistimelasttuesday]

i always thought

dont do childish things

but will you blame yourself?

the scoff when i say

let's play a car game

the traffic is long

and the way home takes time

and so, i adore you

as you laugh with me in the backseat

our uncle peeks at the mirror

to find us gasping for air

after you couldn't find what song

has "kaibigan" in it

friend

like sparklers are childish before being lit up

and running around always feels new

like tickling or puffing your cheeks

let's stay and be a bit more childish

it won't warrant anything else

laugh with me until i shove you from how funny it all is

i keep you in the same part of my brain as i keep the night i ate small fried tawilis reheated in an air fryer and ampalaya and eggplant stewed in paksiw in

[thistimelasttuesday]

i love you

im so tired

i dont even kmow who you are

but if i just rest

i let the day slip by

stolen from me by

everything that i ought to need

i just want to say

i love you and

i miss you

and i yearn to be with you

my skull feels like

it's splitting apart

and i want to give up

i truly am about to let go

my fingers are slipping

and yet i still have to watch out

for more of whatever this is

i love you

i cant do it anymore

i want to cry

and it will look so stupid

and they will laugh

but my god, why

should i even care at all?

[thistimelasttuesday]

let the instant coffee flow,

i feel it dry up my intestines

by 9 am everyday!

i hear the taka tak taka tak

of my keyboard.

as long as it sounds

i am successful

i am doing my best

i cry over everything

and the pink sky peeks at me saying

can't even greet me today?

but no matter,

the nerves in my eyes accompany me

and the online document scrolls on forever

and Facebook says good morning

and again tomorrow

let it all flow

until death

until death

until the death of day

dawn means nothing

artificial light,

gear in a mechanical dream

a barcode is somewhere on you

don't forget to scan yourself

before you sleep

[thistimelasttuesday]

look at me and laugh

you know that's how i know it's love

when you press your lips together

and breathe out a chuckle

save it just for me

i'll memorize it all

i love you because

you run towards me

after a long day

of waiting

[thistimelasttuesday]

falling asleep scares me because tomorrow comes with it

the motor of my fan accompanies me

as it is again, 1 am

and im thinking, monday is so near

and that time doesn't feel real

and that there are people who roll their eyes

at things that start with "i feel"

but how can i think and word it out

when i feel and don't feel at all

that days are motion blur on camera

i looked out the window today

or was in last wednesday

i don't know when

but i also went out

it was sometime near

tonight and last week

i look up and find myself

in places like the bathroom

and wonder when i stood up

when i walked out

when i finished work

when i lied down

an endless stream of drifting

i weep when i touch my arm

and no longer feel myself

a ghost of a person

i don't know what inhabits me

but it surely isn't me

i no longer have

those things you call dreams

there is nothing that lays ahead

when i imagine myself there

i walk, following nothing

expecting to fall anytime soon

[thistimelasttuesday]

i watch the demise of a child from the door arc of my grandmother's room where i type like the day will come to an end but it doesn't come to an end when the words april next year fall like a chuckle from my superior's mouth april next year is not real to me as i watch the death of a kid from my dinner table as i mourn eating what gives me energy to drive myself to the murder of a child with my own hands seeing flesh from the back of my thighs melt into the gaps of my knuckles it is a warning that the hours will rush and i will force myself to watch it all leave until one day i will be standing over the dirt of what once was a girl killed by a speeding truck with a destination to nowhere and the visceral after effects of life in a chair haunt me the taste of pocari sweat after vomiting thrice from an overdue migraine the hysterical laughter after paying too much for an apple and talking to yourself saying things like good job it's okay you can rest in the middle of a rain soaked street where the streetlights sing good job it's okay you can rest even though it's not real and what's real is the smell of mouthwash circulating from a face mask on a random gray wednesday which reminds me this is not living not after the decease of a dreamer who thought it wouldnt get worst than having a fizzled out adolescence but it does get worse i mean when i go through the motions with my eyes closed because i am too softhearted to bear it all in one shot laugh at me i know it is hilarous tears at some point will not be enough at some point it will feel like a repeated monologue an embarrassing recurring memory from high school where i started my suicides one girl dead bury then next resurrect and then once again buried over and over again

[thistimelasttuesday]

the sun isn't the center of the universe

E A

E A G

E A

E A G

the sun isn't at the center of the universe

just another star, burning in outer space

it turns and turns, and so do I along it,

just another girl in the loneliest days

open arms, i spin under the sky.

a solar flare can kill everyone on earth.

but i think too much and let the time pass by

is it even good enough to get your money's worth

A E A E - A

i'll take eons to be that warm again.

will you wait till the end? (wait til the end?)

will you make a heliocentric theory

and risk being stoned to death?

D#dim E

D#dim E

but anyway, am i beautiful?

from far away, will you watch me?

E A

E A G

the sun isn't at the center of the universe

but i don't think she minds these things at all

the flowers still turn their face up to greet her

so I'll grab their little leaves and go along

A E A E - A

can i take my time to be a light?

8 minutes and i'll be anything you like

fiery ball of gas, on your own

the brightest things are all alone

D#dim E

D#dim E

but anyway, am i beautiful?

from far away, will you watch me?

E A 2x

I THINK I GET IT

I SAY FOR THE HUNDREDTH TIME

IM AT MY BEST WHEN IM UNFOLDING

WHEN I GO, WILL I LEAVE BEHIND

SOMETHING GOLDEN,

SOMETHING GOLDEN

but in the end, was i beautiful?

don't pretend, all i need is to be seen.

[thistimelasttuesday]

filipino poem

mahal ko pa rin kayo

loving people when they get tired of you

use paulit-ulit-ulit-ulit

mahal kita dahil mahal kita.

walang nakakapagod doon.

mahal ko pa rin kayo

heto, kumakaway sa malayo

parang gamo-gamo sa hapagkainan

sana makita niyo

kahit nakakairita

mahal ko pa rin kayo

dito, sa isla ko

mag-isang lumulutang

papunta sa Pasipiko

pero huwag mag-atubili

walang dagat na kailangan languyin

ayos lang, sapat na kapag

bumaling ang inyong tingin

sa may banda rito, kahit di ako

basta, mahalaga naalala niyo

mahal ko pa rin kayo

kahit na ibang ngiti ang bumati

sa bawat susunod mula ngayon

nababalot pa rin ng alala

ang inyong bawat sulyap

sa pamamagitan ng pag-iwas ng tingin.

kahit nangungulila ako

sa mga sariling dating atin,

tumatawa sa daang pauwi,

umaastang wala nang mas makakaintindi pa

sa kung sino tayo ngayon

kundi ang kung sino tayo ngayon.

pero, ayun na nga, walang mas bibilis sa paglipas

walang mas matiyagang kumaripas kaysa ang panahon

ang kayo na dating para sa akin ay nasa akin na lamang

at ang ako na dating inyo

ay hindi rin marunong lumangoy

kaya't mapadpad man sa ibayo,

lumubog man o agusin

mahal ko pa rin kayo