You do not know

how much i talk about you

how i am so proud of you

as one of the kin

of the people who brought me into this world

how special i feel when it's not even my day

when i'm wearing a little bit of black

and you startle me in an all red

i didn't waste my day with you

only by the night

when the recesses come

when it's just the both of us 

and our very mundane activities

you break the bubble of my self-absorption

and breathe the zest and encapsulate me in a new energy

one that is so out there

one that seems so old and wise yet still so youthful

this was a night

i would call in the future

those were the days

(positions)

It's not a circle
They say the earth
Is oblate spheroid
A language that my mind seems to not understand
But she just shrugs me off
And tell me to look at an orange
The fruit i mean

I look at the globe
Goddamnit it's not even made of marble
It's just plastic! An inflatable plastic
Where its cheap paint, i can scratch off and
Allow the names of the countries to disappear
Making up a dream where no boundaries exist
because the lines are nowhere to be seen

How then am i supposed to learn
That, yes, the world turns
And the distances are long and wide and meant to be traversed
When all you look at
Is the map

Where you don't even pay attention to the time zones on top
I believe the degrees and the inclination are better understood with a 3D model
Where you don't even recognize that even if
We are looking at the same sun and same moon
Sometimes you will always be ahead
That you are convinced
Time is the same
You tell me

what do i eat

what do i want to eat
i ask myself
look at the flaps of my wallet
fumbling and hoping to see a yellow bill

alas, i have instead
the one not in fuschia, but somewhat red
i grimace at the thought
oh food why do i have to want you
even if i cannot get you with what i have now

should i just instead
wait for my pockets to be full
or ask for someone to lend me their shiny little circles
and add them all together
so that i may have a share
of what i really had in mind
in the first place

but what do i really want to eat
is it enough to have much
and then an array of options
completely making me feel even more lost than before
i should have not asked for more
i should have just eaten what i could have

If I were Annie's Father

Soft pastels and fancy wallpapers
Of a room for two touched by Western architecture
With the Malaysian sunrise and sunset peeking into its windows

The floor is wooden and shiny
The sound of the heels of my loafers seem to mimic the sound of my cardiac muscle
I see your desk

Your stuff, your laptop which you always leave with the web cam open
Your grandmother's works that you keep in a treasure box
And Marie's ancient clothes iron that you promised to replace

And then I see your bed
Not small, but not quite big either
The sheets are still the same since I last visited
But it's not crumpled anymore

The creases on the sheets are no longer there to tell me which side of the bed you slept
I turn around and face the opposite side
What a pretty good view that you have here, Child

Then I sit on your bed
I look around once more
Left to right, top to bottom and front to back
Snippets of the people you love are near your bedside
And then I gave in to the invitation of the bed
I climb in and the weight of me creates a creaking sound

But louder is my heart and my tears when I see myself in the ceiling

It is a photo of me
And I see you as I try to reach it

Child, you are not of my blood
But you will always be one of the reason why my heart still beats
Even if you have lost your breath

The wonder

Is in the way I feel

Almost complete

When I wake up in the morning

When I turn the faucets on and nobody else is there to hear the sound of cold water
springing out from the tubes

When I pick out what to wear and nobody else is there to see the pile of unfolded clothes
because i just can't seem to choose

When I put all my stuff inside my bag and nobody else is there to see all the trinkets that add weight to my bag on my scoliotic back

When I silently, but not so, try to shut the door so I won't disturb you

When I try to walk as fast as I can so that I won't get late

When I try to concentrate on Your word and try not to fall asleep

When I could feel myself almost breaking down whenever I see families and people huddled together, with companions

When I could feel myself trying to hold back the tears because I left my handkerchief in the room

When, after that, I would have to choose a place to break my fast on my own and nobody is there to argue with me where to eat

When I look for a table for two, when in reality, I'm just looking for a small table for myself and for the cheap food that I am about to eat

And when I open my notes, there goes my heart, on a table that reminds me of my singularity

I wonder why I still feel complete.

should you drink

coffee that is not decaffeinated

please,

don't sleep right away

after the last bit of

cheap, and almost sugar

instant-coffee

(that you bought packs of

but never really consumed

because you were never supposed to)

drips from its cup

what is this

i always have a knack for love teams

you know.

the ones they pair-up together to form this super duper cheesy but totally unforgettable duo

in tv, in movies, heck, even online media

oh yeah and also like ships.

sometimes why do i feel like i have a say in those things?

i mean sometimes i really have the urge to go vocal

about why E. clearly has no chemistry with J.

(this one’s totally unbiased -  i mean i even checked YouTube comments and hey there were a lot of

people who think so too!

or, yeah, maybe i’m just a fan of M. and J. together. i don’t know.)

or why J. and H. will be my one true pair

in an oh-my-gosh-Ann-why-are-you-even-watching-that-kind of drama

in Korean

and the 3rd episode hasn’t even aired yet!

this is not a love letter

Dear M.

it’s funny how your initials could mean a lot of things - and people, too.

first, it’s the first letter of my father’s name.

second, it’s the first letter of the name i call the person who loves me the most - Mom.

and for all the right and wrong reasons - it’s also the first letter of the pronoun i always blurt out whenever people take my stuff away. i shout, “That’s mine!”

i also find it really samok when i realized your initials are MM
dude, that is so unfair. M&M’s are like my childhood.

and yet…I met you in my childhood.

only in my childhood.

unless the universe allows us to meet once more, thereby adding into the equation all the “fake” meetings conjured in deleted messages (i don’t know about you but at least i did), and trailing conversations, and pahabol comments that you sometimes make on the photos i aesthetically choose to include in my social media feed.

unless the world around us will form into one super-continent and remove all the distances or rather the wide-spaces, the ones devoid of you and i

unless the oceans, the nautical miles, and the time-zones (i used to ask you how many hours you are ahead… four? maybe five?) that exist between us will all crumble and disappear — bidding goodbye to all the hurried hellos and goodbyes because one is already sleeping while the other just got home

unless you tell me the truth and stick to your promises while i am held captive by snide comments of you wanting to tour our motherland together (i never really understood the laughing emoji at the end of your invitation)

then maybe i would meet you again.

then maybe i don’t have to buy M&M’s just to give it to my siblings in the end because its letters play a joke on me

then maybe i don’t have to skip Makonnen’s songs because every time i hear his voice it reminds me of you dancing freestyle (you insist it’s not choreographed) which would ultimately take me back to moments wherein you would ask help just to find the right shot for her

but you know what?

even if i did forget your name or your initials,

even if i would meet you or not, in the future (that’s a pity i know because the universe frowns on me doing these sketchy things)

somewhere along these lines, or somewhere in this reality that i live in

i am surrounded by your name because i remember the struggle in how to call you by your own name (i am used to single-syllables you see)

not because it’s beautiful — your name, i mean

but because your name happens to be that of the Exodus hero’s as well

and how could i not remember that?

whenever i think of You
i think of home

i figured out that i am missing a lot of things in life.
i see that i have been taking unimportant matters too seriously to the point of neglecting the more pressing issues.
i thought, i don't feel happy.
i realized, i have been straying away from You.