They Said No

There was a bird flying
Soaring through the clear blue skies
With the flock of her feather
She strived through
Then one day
She saw another flock
Of different feather
And her heart was taken
She said she wanted this
They said no, it’s senseless
Birds of a feather, flock together
Her heart pleaded in silence
Then one other day
She flies alone
Not with her flock, not where her heart is
Alone and bidding time
She can’t choose
One side will bleed
So she stayed away from both
But darkness is after her
Loneliness consumed her
Her feather changed
She hated it
She didn’t choose it
And the end of days came
She can’t take more changes
She’s not who she wanted to be
And she succumbed to despair

Love Letter: I Wanna Be Somebody to You

I wanna be somebody to you
Somebody that can smile like idiot in your presence
Make you laugh insanely at my crazy antics
Thought me farting in front of you cute
and I will be embarrassed but we’ll laugh it off


I wanna be somebody that you think of
when you hear a song in the radio
Remind you of time we sing along to it
To be somebody that you remember
when you open your fridge at night
Because we heart midnight snacks


I wanna be somebody that makes you laugh
and makes you cry over and again
A weird person that makes you cringe
and your brows scrunched and your jaw drop
and by the end of the day
You might think you’re crazy
But you know, we BOTH are crazy together
and it’s wonderful we got each other


I wanna be somebody that you wanna tease
Somebody that you wanna piss off
Just because your heart get a kick from it
Knowing how much you annoyed me
and know that I still look at you
and I know you will have that grin in your face
because then you can win me over
Tomorrow, you’d do it again
because you know you’re the only one that can do so


I wanna be somebody to you
Make you feel awkward and comfy with
and makes you think of our future
Be somebody that would wait for you
but end up snoring in front of TV
Be that person you called out for when you come home
and I’ll be screaming out from the kitchen
cooking for you and our children
You’ll rush to the kitchen and you’ll frown
because I’m not done cooking and you’re hungry
but you’ll wait because it’s me cooking for you
even when it’s only a fried egg
and I will take a lot of time because I’m just
that clumsy girl you love


I’ll be somebody to you
That makes you wait for a day when you can count my wrinkles
Your hand at the small of my back and hold my hand still
when the time comes that we both grow grey hair
I might lose a tooth or two
and you do too with our glasses thickens
but I will still think you’re handsome as hell
and you will still think I’m pretty as angel


I wanna be that somebody to you
That you talk to every night
from a girl that I am today and the old woman I’ll be
And from the first day on
We’ll still bicker each day till the end
but we always make up after all thrown punches
and you’d someday say to me;
“Do you remember that fight we had?”
or I’d someday say to you;
“You still remember that shirt I wore to our first date?”
I know you’d probably won’t remember
and I’m probably not gonna remember too
but I love teasing you and you’d think hard
just so I’m not gonna sulk
Years to the future we will forget some things
Some memories we’ll love to remember always
Our hearts will remember when our mind don’t


That’s somebody I wanna be for you
For as long as time stand still
because gosh my dear,
we are good together
It’s surreal.
It’s madness.
It’s addictive.
It’s scary.
It’s us together
being weird, loving, hating and just plain stupid with each other
with compatibility that defy peanut butter and jelly.
Me and
Being mushy and all.
Others wanna puke.


THE END (but not really the end)

My Books are My Therapists

Books to me are as important as food, if not more. This semester, I’ve collected twelve books (or more), three of those non-fiction. Books are my drugs, tranquilized me of my heartache and loneliness at times when I don’t have no one to talk to. 

The semester has ended and all these books, in one way or another, get me through almost every harsh days. Suppressing my stress and need to break down this semester just by sticking my nose into my books. 

It probably isn’t a healthy thing to do to deal with emotions (you’ve got to face your problems, right?) but hey, that’s all I know. Only book lovers will understand, one that understand how books can keep you together and not screaming your lungs out. 

Book is amazing, a superhero. 

This semester, I started off great. I’m fiery to nailed this semester, but that’s in the beginning. Slowly, things started to go down the drain. There are too many things going on at once and I only have one brain and one heart and one body. Sums up, I only have one life of one soul and very little time. It wears me out and by the end, I’m beaten. 

No studying, not even cramming for my finals. I slept in almost all of my classes and I did badly for my tests, quizzes and assignments. Wow, now that I think of it all, it sucks. Surprisingly, I don’t find it in me to care much. I might going to cry if this few months ago. 

Everything is not going well, but books are still with me. Comforting me in ways that no people can. Except academics book. Apparently, I’m a racists towards certain book. Yay.

Got a problem? Consult books. Like this…

Love life: Hopelessly romantic novel (Judith McNaught, Jane Feather…. and so on. Nick Sparks anyone?)

Motivation: Comics (crack a laughter once in a while, it’ll do you good. Check out, Ernest Ng’s Don’t Be Like That Bro comic series)

etc. There are books for every turmoil of emotions you go through, how can you not like books. There are cheaper than shrink therapists, they just listen to you and they don’t look at you in a way that makes you feel like you’re going crazy.

But no matter how much I like books, people need others to alleviate depression. Books are books, but they are not people. I need to let it all out soon and books are not in my list of consulting options. 

Books and me, a love affair but not forever. Books are my muted BFF. It’s too quiet sometimes.

The Sad Hair, The Sad Hair Owner, The Money Goes

Oh hair! Oh hair!

What a bad hair day

What a bad hair day…


 Oh hair! Oh hair!

You loss and fall 

to the floor, on the pillow 

There you go


Hair to color

Hair to cut

Hair to pull

in girl’s fight



You are frustrating

and dumb-ing


Hair oh hair

My money goes

Goodbye to lunch

and new shoes


To you hair

frustrates me 

when the wind blows

because hairspray is not me


Get glossy and soft

Not dry and split-ends

and now, I roll my eyes at you

though I just waste money on you


It’s frustrating indeed. Hair