Dear you,

It’s not the rain that you hate
But the memories that come crashing down
When the little drops meet the ground.
Those days you couldn’t replay,
Like a photo you could look back to,
But could never live on anymore.
The thought of a place you couldn’t be in,
As the tiny crystals shine in delight through your window pane.
It’s the song you used to sing,
But now you hate to hear
As the raindrops fall to the roof,
With the perfect melody
That hums as your heart beats.

It’s not the rain you hate,
But the emptiness you feel,
For things you could’ve
or could’ve not done.
It’s not the rain you hate.
You love the sound it creates,
Like a lullaby on sleepless nights.
You love how it make its way down
On your glass window
As you trace them with your fingertips.
You love how each drop feels
Against your skin
Against your palm,
Against your face
Welcoming every tear.
It’s not the rain you hate,
But the things
that made you think you hate it.
So dear,
See how beautiful the rain is.
It does remind you of pain,
But mirth always comes with it.

With a drop of my own rain,



I’ve been trying to put it into words.
I’ve been trying to put YOU into words.
And the cycle goes on and on.

What shall I say about you?
Would it even give justice to the greatest woman I’ve ever known?
Would it be enough to tell the world,
That you are my everything and more?

Words are never our way to reach out.
And so I know that words won’t be enough.
I just wanted to write a poem for thee.
But all I can scribble is your name,
And that’s what the whole world means to me.

Dear People,

If you are me, then you would understand.

I don’t talk to people. They usually talk to me.

It’s not that I’m haughty, I just don’t know how to initiate a conversation. However, I can be loud and talkative with persons I’ve got along with, especially my family. And I dare to speak when it’s a matter of life and death. But most of the times I keep my mouth shut, not because I don’t have anything to share, but because I believe it wouldn’t matter. That’s just how it goes for me.

I usually walk staring at my feet, or with my earphones on. I don’t like other people’s gazes on me. I prefer to be unnoticed.

I don’t like arguments because I’ve never been good in framing up the right words. I tend to regret the words that I say. So I learned to keep things to myself. But I also tend to forget a lot of things, so those problems would just evaporate.

I prefer to do things on my own, because when I try to work with other people, I suck. And when I fail while doing it alone, I feel better for I won’t be blaming anyone else but myself.

I love writing. Because by writing I can express myself. I can let go of feelings and frustrations that I cannot — or better yet didn’t have the courage to — act on. I can build a whole new world. I am the author of my own story. I dictate how things must go.  Because in reality, you can’t always choose. You’re torn between what you want to do and what you have to do. And so you have to live with the circumstances.

I am weird. And I wouldn’t explain why.

At this point, you might think that I am an introvert. Well let me tell you that I am. I never try to please anyone. I just do what I ought to do. And no matter how hard I try to fit in, I will always feel like an outcast. Because I don’t belong to anybody. I belong only to myself.

Or maybe I’m just sick. It’s the meds talking. 😟

To you, my dear…

I’m in pain.
Because, in a way, I brought you the pain you are feeling right now.
And the thought of causing those tears haunts me.
It makes me regret not keeping my mouth shut.
I should’ve not told you,
Even if it would mean keeping it from you.
Because dear, it hurts me that I can’t do anything to ease that pain,
Or even make you feel better.
For in the first place,
I don’t think I can handle that kind of pain myself.


Maybe one day, he’d read this and would just smile without uttering a single word.

Maybe he’d tell me, I’m kinda melodramatic for writing this, but duh, it’s okay.

For there are things  I can’t say.  Maybe I’m just shy, or afraid to do so.
But I can surely write about it, inside my head, inside my heart, or on a paper.

There are just things I couldn’t say, but I could write about.

So here it goes,…..


To you,
Who have held me all night
While humming a song,
I love you.

To you,
Who have handed me a piece of candy
Whenever I cried,
I love you.

To you,
Who told me I’m the best
When I didn’t believe in myself,
With no words,
But a silent smile,
I love you.

To you,
Who worked all day and night
To give me the things I need,
I love you.

To you,
Who are miles away
But have always been by my side
And inside my heart,
I love you.

To you,
Who never showed any weakness,
But was trembling in fear inside
For every single day,
That you didn’t see us grow,
I love you.

To you,
Who let me see
That I can still trust a man,
Despite my fear,
I love you.

To you,
Who never said ‘I love you’
But spelled it out,
I love you.

To you,
Who showed me
The greatest love I could have,
I love you.

To you,
Who I can never thank enough
For all the things you’ve done,
For all the things you’ve said,
Or have not said,
I love you.

To you,
Who I have always loved,
Though I never did tell you
A single word,
I love you.

To you,
Who have always been the greatest man,
The greatest silent friend,
The greatest fan,
The greatest F.A.T.H.E.R.,
I love you.

And if one day,
You get to read this,
I hope you’d smile,
I hope you’d feel every word.
I hope you’d be happy.
I hope you’d see,
You’re one of a kind,
Someone I’d never regret to have
Someone I’d never cease to love.
You’re the man I love.

To the boy named Armo


Sitting silently,
with the back of my hand
under my chin

My eyes falling
despite the loud music
all around me.

I must have not come,
I regretfully say
under my sleepy breath.

I took a deep sigh,
felt my head
trembling in boredom.

One, two, three,
how many times I yawned,
I couldn’t count it exactly.

Then there came
another set of band,
the one we’ve been waiting.

The front man says hello,
the drums on the beat,
the guitars go rocking.

My eyes flew open
at the sight of you,
you kept strumming the guitar.

While the vocalist sang,
you did your thing,
and you amazed me.

Wow —
was the only words
I could utter.

You look so great,
play so great,
head bang so great.

I couldn’t take
my eyes off of you —
you were all that mattered.

Your black shirt,
your black pants,
and your long black hair.

The way you felt the music,
the way those deep dimples
marked their place.

I didn’t know
that you exist,
but now I do.

Your name
was a beautiful song
to my ears.

that’s how they call you,
but I’d like to call you mine.

But no matter how I wish
the night wouldn’t end,
the show ended.

You all turned
your back at us
after the farewell song.

But until now
I can still picture you
in my head.

One day,
I’d see you again.