Inexplicably sad
Undeniably mad
Stare and breathe, stare and breathe
Never close to what I need

Inexplicably sad
Don’t ask why
Undeniably mad
Couldn’t tell anyone why

Inexplicably sad
Couldn’t take it easily
Undeniably mad
I’m not ready

Inexplicably sad
Everything hanging on a balance
Undeniably mad
Stare and breathe, stop the tears

Inexplicably sad
Undeniably mad
Stare and breathe, stare and breathe.

Me Importa

My god, I actually care.

But I cannot,
I must not,
Because I don’t even understand myself–
I am dead, I have nowhere to go,
I am stuck in a leisurely pace,
I have nowhere to go.

But I–
I don’t know,
I’m not supposed to say this,
Not allowed to feel this.

But god, I do care,
I do care about you.

But I cannot,
I must not,
Because I am nothing—
And you have so much to go,
So far to go.

And I am a dead weight.
With no plans, no dreams, no future,
Just a lurker in the present.

My god, I do care,
But I can’t.

It pains,
To want but cannot,
A self-imposed rule, I should say,
But a rule nonetheless.

To hurt no one
By being unhappy.

But my god,
Do I care.

White-hot

Who would’ve thought love could be a white-hot pain in the chest
A pit in the stomach
And choking back tears.

The pounding won’t stop
The beast in my heart
Growling louder, heavier.
And it lurches
As tears flow slowly

And there’s something in my throat.

The fire, it’s back
And it clutches my fragile heart,
It hurts.

And my hands are numb
My toes are cold.

Everything’s dead
But the fire in my heart
Soon to consume me.

It’s A Certain Sort of Sadness

It’s a certain sort of sadness
That wells up inside–
Here now; gone tomorrow,
And here again unannounced.

It’s a certain sort of sadness
That all I could do is stare–
Wonder why, and how,
Is there something I found wanting?

It’s a certain sort of sadness
That fills my palm with pain of loss–
A stab to the heart and numbness down my feet,
Will I ever get used to it?

It’s a certain sort of sadness
That I’ll never quite get fond of–
Not the kind that makes me seek solitude,
Recourse or rest.

It’s a certain sort of sadness
That sends chills down my arms–
A coldness in my core,
A flame burning in my heart.

It’s a certain sort of sadness
That fills me with nothingness–
Not choler, or ire,
Not melancholy, or despait.

It’s a certain sort of sadness.

Ikaw ay Ako sa Kanya

Ikaw ay ako sa kanya.
Siya ay ako sa iyo.
Kung mayroon mang dapat aminin,
Yun ay di ko alam ang gagawin.

Siya sa akin ay siya sa iyo.
Siya sa iyo ay siya sa akin.
Laging nagbabaka-sakali,
Pabalik balik, parang kalye.

Ikaw ay ikaw,
At ako ay ako.
Noon ay may kami,
Mayroong kayo.
Nagkaroon ng tayo.
At kayo. At kami.

Wala na tayo.
Wala nang tayo.
Sino ba naman ako?

Siya ay hindi ako.
Siya ay hindi ikaw.
Titigilan ko na ito,
Tutal, nauna ka namang bumitaw.

1948

I could turn days into weeks into months
But when I see your name,
Why do I still care?

I could turn memories into stories into verses
But when I see your trace,
Why does it still ache?

I couls weave pain into words into poems
But when I notice your absence,
Why does it still hurt?