9.8 m/s^2

Pieces… I’ve been looking to fill my emptiness not knowing each lost pieces finally filled the gaps. I am whole as long as I have her. Whole as a painter has his canvas, a writer has his pen, a troubadour has his music. She helped me fill the gaps. She filled it with love like a thirsty dried glass which finally found its lovelorn water.

A bullet in a trajectory of love following gravity. No matter how we push ourselves away, I still want her, need her and love her. She is my helium which flies me to horizons unseen. but she is also my gravity which keeps me grounded.

Two projectiles hurled into the gravity of love. She is my music as I am her ___. my dream come true… My ray of sunshine… My color palette… My all…

My SKY, she who brought different colors to my life. Her rapier of love pierced right through my heart letting love flow right through my veins. It plagues my system like a virus plagues the diseased, but I don’t want to be cured for she is a cure herself. She is my panacea.

I love her. I irrevocably love her and I hope she knows how I can’t live without her.

Distance

In a box of oblivion and of those which were forgotten, a broken marionette was longing for her love. It was another marionette but it was not as broken as her. Her loved one was still a working piece not like her, trashed and dumped. She was sad, always, for her day was not complete when she didn’t see her lover.

Every day, she greets those broken toys with smile but every night, she cries herself into sleep.

She was longing for her lover and she was wishing the old days would be back where she and her lover were together. She knew that her lover loved her as her lover knew that she loved him/her. However, she’s still sad.

One day, the marionette was picked out of the box, was fixed and was labeled brand new. She was excited for this might be the chance to see her lover. But, she was wrong. She found out that the other marionette was now put into the box where she was once in. Grieving, she just said to herself that distance won’t be the reason for her love to cease. She tried her best to see her lover hoping that her lover’s love is still burning.

While being used by the puppeteer, the puppeteer decided that her career was over. Light escaped her vision then darkness slowly filled her. She was oblivious of her death but not of her love.

Blur

You held my hand and I held yours. We were communing with a language only we knew. We kissed and we made love. Then, you said to me how much you wanted and needed me. I woke up. I realized it was just a dream. A dream which is so far from the reality I am in.

Weightless

A voyage in glass-like boxes denying gravity… I flew aimlessly like dust flown by the wind. Above me was starless sky and auroras of different hues… I flew… Weightless… Frightless… This is not the void… This is my paradise…

Frenzy

My heart went against my mind. I needed to choose between my mind and my heart. One of my multiple selves was in uproar, in revolt and in dismay. She’s the one dictating I need to choose… She’s the one telling me I need not to follow my desires.

“But I desire her. I love her.”

But the voice in my head said, “You should stop desiring her for your desire is destructive and pernicious. You could still love her without desiring her.”

Then I said, “If I would not let go of my desires, then it would be destructive to my self.” The voice replied, “You desire her but does she desire you?” I said yes then the voice retorted, “Does she desire you the way you desire her?”

“I love her.”

The voice was angry. “Then love without desiring what you desire. You may commit the same mistakes again.” I reacted, “I don’t care committing the same mistakes again for love is taking risks.”

The voice and I are in mean cycles of argument and conflict. The voice continued. “But is your heart prepared for taking all those risks? Is your heart prepared if you follow your desires? You are first bonded by a thin thread of what you call sisterhood, but are you willing to cut this thread to follow your desires? What if she loves you not in a way that you love her? What if she wants you not in a way that you want her?”

I replied, “I don’t care. She is enough reason for me to live. She makes me feel loved. She makes me feel wanted. She is enough reason for me to wake up every morning and face the world which I do not wish to venture. I don’t want to lose her.”

The voice ranted, “But is she yours? How can you lose her if she is not yours? You always say she is free but you are afraid of losing her. You might lose her if you follow what you desire.”

“I know. I am human and I am trying my best no to own her for love is free and possessing is not loving. I desire her. I long for her. You won’t understand. You are not me. I need to follow what my heart yearns for and it is her.”

The voice raved, “No, you are wrong. You and I are one. I am just a mere persona of your fears and of your worries.”

Another voice came out and said, “You had said quite enough but are you willing to act? You need to choose not just by words but also through actions. You love her but are you willing to sacrifice? You said love is taking risks but what risks are you willing to take? You love her then choose. You need to choose. Choose what is right. Love is never wrong. Have you decided? What will you choose? Your mind or your heart?

Yellow Lights

Night befell my dream. I was in my sanctuary of thoughts and of dreams. I was with my friend. She was going to meet someone, her lover. I was with her to uplift her worn out soul . We were in my sanctuary enjoying only what we need not.

Like a train of paradoxes, she reached her destination. I first heard laughter then I saw a group of people in wanton revelry. They were meters away. They enjoyed the night like it would be there last. Then I said to myself, “Someone other than me had considered this place as their sanctuary.”

My friend left to meet her lover which she found with those group of people. Yellow lights and chilling breeze, it started raining. Then someone from the group looked at me. It was her. She called my name and she ran towards me with a smile on her face. I stood frozen as I had my umbrella on. She was all soaked when she had reached me. I gave her my umbrella.

It was still raining and I was all drenched. She asked me something. I looked into her eyes. At that moment, I wanted to embrace her, to hug her and to hold her in my arms. Her eyes were pleading. Tears befell my face. I cannot do it. The rain hid my tears while I am in my silence. It became darker and her image gradually disappeared.

I wake up with her in my mind.

Trance

She is beautiful yet so delicate like porcelain. Her eyes had changed and so her smile. A mask of innocence and revelry she wears but she is not. A whirlpool of frustrations she entered leaving what seems to be good nor bad. She welcomed new life and death followed as a harbinger of despair and endless sorrow. She left everything behind for something unknown but something which guaranteed her a solace of belonging.

Where is her freedom? Where is her happiness? Where is her belonging? Where is her love? Where is her solace?

She left everything behind like a bird leave its shell. A flight for freedom and belonging she dreams. A flight of love and adoration she desires. Disease is crawling. The disease of her past is waking. It might entangle her again. Will she escape? Can she escape? Repetition is forbidding.

Everything is blurred. But it is just blurred. It still there. Nothing changed. Only the resolution of the purple glass of what is and what seems is refined into an illusion of hollow nothingness. Sadness. Loneliness. Dejection. Despair. Ennui. Just blurred. Only blurred.

Can she fly? Will she fly? Her wings are burnt and broken. Can she rise from her drowning? Will she rise? Her lungs are incapable of breathing. She is dying. Who will save her? Can I save her?

The thin partition between what is reality and what is a dream is slowly decaying like a flower decays without its sea of ground, air and water. The decay is destructive both to the reality and to the dream. A dream becoming a reality. A reality becoming a dream.

Where is she now? Has she found her freedom? Has she found her happiness? Has she found her belonging? Has she found her love? Has she found her solace?

Where is she?