Friday, February 26, 2010

Uh...

So lately, I've been writing more and more things about my ex. I never did deal with that break up thoroughly. But I won't go into details. I suppose these poems are my way of officially getting over whatsherface. Okay, let's just get to it.

Heartaches&Heartbreaks.

I have issues.
A lot of them.
I’m an asshole.
Plain and simple.
But that’s not my fault.
It’s an unresolved issue that made me this way.
This unresolved issue I’m talking about… is an ex.
Ever since she CHEATED on me, I think I broke.
And it’s no joke, I look at relationships bitterly.
Always thinking, how could this possibly benefit me?
I don’t look at every girl like an object.
But I see them as the farthest thing from perfect.
Another species, brought by aliens from another planet on their flying ships.
My insecurities towards these beings spawn from a previous relationship.
It was good at the start.
Thought it was real, that Cupid hit the mark.
But months later, things changed drastically.
I didn’t get texts back, or phone calls.
Not a single good morning, goodnight, sweet dreams, nothing at all.
When ever I’d call, she’d say someone’s on the other line.
Can’t talk tonight, too tired because she was up all night.
Maybe I was being paranoid.
Clingy.
I’ve tried resolving this issue.
Placed together words that turned into sentences.
Sentences turned into paragraphs.
Paragraphs into letters.
Letters into essays.
And essays into an entire novel, of emotions, in it’s rawest form.
The first piece I wrote after me and her were through, is filled with chicken scratch and sentences I can barely understand.
All I can make out of it is bitch, slut, whore.
And another piece only says how I wish we could’ve been more.
But in all of them, I asked myself the same question, what were those seven months for?
I want to think that I learned something more than how much she hates being flattered.
Something more than, in her mind, family is the only thing that mattered.
A little bit more than her birthday’s on the twenty-seventh day of june.
A lot more than knowing that she buries herself in anime when her family’s not in tune.
Or like how she and her mom are like best friends, she knew what we did when we were home alone.
Or how her exboyfriend took advatange of her, and she still has his number on her phone.
I want to think that I learned more than her favourite songs are ones to deal with Cupid.
But she hates the words forever, never and always, because she think infinity is stupid.
I want to think that I learned something, more than how fragile you are when your heart breaks.
And when a heart aches, it’s evidence that what you felt was not fake.
So the issue at hand is after the hell she put me through,
After I did all that I could possibly do,
Only proves that love’s existance is not true.
Because all that I love you that came out of her mouth,
Really meant we could never work out.
It really meant that she’ll always leave when someone better comes along.
Because she felt that staying with one guy forever was too long.
So the issue at hand is, why have we not changed the definition of L-O-V-E.
Because when we’re looking for love, we’re really sayin’ F-U-C-K me.
Because we could substitute the word love for lust.
Because we think in every relationship, sex is a must.
Because I’ve started to feel that love isn’t worth my time anymore.
And I'm starting to think, that’s what those seven months were for.

Monday, February 22, 2010

Silence

In this deafening silence, I can hear your voice, ever so clearly.
It’s like you’re standing right beside me.
Whispering in my ears, telling me that you miss me.
And though I try to drive the thought out of my mind.
I can’t unhear it.
You’ve spoken the words that I’ve yearned to hear.
Because it proves that you made a mistake breaking my heart.
It proves that I was unjustly torn apart.
It proves that YOU were wrong and I was right.
Because when you TEXTED me that we were through,
A part of me could not believe that it was true.
Though a bigger part of me knew the truth.
That our happily ever after would never come true.
But your voice is just a whisper in the winds.
A creation of my own imagination.
I want to think that you do miss me, ever so dearly.
I tell myself, of course she misses me, why wouldn’t she?
But I know.
I know that I am lying between my teeth.
Why would she miss me.
I am undeserving of an intimacy of that caliber.
I had not done anything to prove myself worthy of such a relationship.
My insecurities conflict with what I tell myself, everyday.
I tell myself that I am okay.
That I am content.
That I am proud of who I am.
That I am over you.
But I know.
I know the truth underneath every sentence I speak.
Everytime I say I’m okay, I’m admitting defeat.
Everytime I say I am content, I’m admitting disatisfaction.
Everytime I say I am proud, I’m admitting disappointment.
And when I say I am over you, I’m admitting that you still haunt my mind.
I’m admitting that you still have ownership on my heart.
I’m admitting that I am still in love, though we are apart.
This is the longest time I have spent trying to get over someone.
A little over a year has passed since I last heard your voice.
How I yearn to speak with you once again.
But all I hear is silence.
And in this deafening silence, I can only hear my own voice.
I miss you.

Wednesday, February 17, 2010

Karma Gets to You

I use to think that putting the past in the past is the best way to make a relationship last.
And when I passed a certain point, it was okay to stop being so cheesy.
But see, I'm branded as flirty, when I'm really being friendly.
And I catch the jealous type, so they're secretly mad at me.
Doesn't bug them that they're losing phone time.
Until its too late to say why aren't I in your limelight?
And I always reply, I'm busy babe, school and all.
When in reality, I'm thinking, I have another call.
They hangs up, a little bit mad at me.
No guilt cause I know they're a little bit in love with me.
I switch phone lines, now I'm hearing low cries.
Now I'm living more lies.
It's this girl I chopped earlier
I can't believe she called my cellular.
She talks and talks, I wasn't really listening.
All I heard was something, something, boyfriend broke up with me.
Then I paid attention attentively.
About how she cheated on him constatly.
I became her shoulder to lean on.
It was the kind of love only seen on - tv.
She said, I'm happy that you're my boyfriend now.
I'm really thinkin', don't get too comfortable now.
I have something to tell you, she whispered to me.
My exboyfriend broke up with me, because I let his heart bleed.
I cheated on him, though I would tell him otherwise.
I love you, I don't want our foundation to be filled with lies.
I smiled and she smiled right back.
This girl couldn't see how karma already got her back.

Monday, February 15, 2010

Valentine's

I use to dream about falling down. Nothing detailed, I would be just watching myself fall down an endless hole.

It always started off as if I had just woken up in the middle of the night. I would blink a couple of times, but my vision would only see this shade of black. I’d walk around, struggling to navigate around this dark area. As I continued to walk slowly, on my fifteenth step, the floor would vanish. My body fell but my soul seemed to linger just right behind my body. I would see myself sweating, screaming, reaching out, trying to find something to grab onto. My stomach would be in a flutter and my heart pounding with adrenalin. Normally, right before I wake up, I would feel my body hit something, what I assumed is the floor to this damnable hole. But tonight, I stayed asleep. Instead of waking up, I was staring at myself, lying, breathless on the cold floor. There was a woman standing above my body’s left hand, smoking a cigarette. Her skin was pale, and her eyes were lifeless. Her nails were black and her lips bright red. Her black hair was complimented by her eye shadow. She looked down on me and shook her head. She took her eyes off me and looked at where I fell from. She whispered I love you, and my dream ended more mysteriously than it had ever before.

-

“Edgar! You’re going to be late!”

“I know, grandpa, I know!” Edgar rushed out his front door, speeding past his neighbour, who was struggling to open her front door.

“Late again, mister?” He didn’t bother turning around at the sound of the lovely voice that had spoken random words towards him.

“I know, I know!” She sighed at her failed attempt to get him to notice her. She sighed, and opened the door easily.

-

“You’re not our real daughter, you can never be her!” The abuse in Anastasia’s foster home was getting more severe than anyone knows. She’s never been physically abused but the words that came out of their mouths were too much for her fragile self to bear. She’s grown to accept the fact that she’s always second place to her late step-sister, and though she tries to best her, her efforts seem futile. She’s learned to cope with this domestic problem with the help of cancer sticks. After the daily lecture of how she’s not her step-sister, she goes outside and shortens her lifespan. As she took her jacket, she noticed that she only had one left. She took her wallet today, deciding to go to the convenience store to buy some. She slammed the door shut to notify her drunken foster parents that she had left the house. Placing her headphones, she tuned out the world around her. She didn’t notice the boy next door, curiously staring at her, as she walked away from their front porch.

-

Edgar’s coping mechanism is completely different from his neighbour. He releases it in more productive ways, like writing or the remedial, primal screams that he does, when words can’t express what he’s feeling. Today was Valentine’s Day. The worst holiday to be ever invented, Edgar thought. He would always keep to himself on this day, even though he’s been asked by friends to come out to watch the latest love-themed movie. Today, writing out his thoughts was near impossible, as his page had been blank for over two hours. He grabs his coat and quietly walks out. He closes the door behind him, closes his eyes, takes a few step forward, and let out a primal scream that, hopefully, no one heard. This was his most effective way of coping with the troubles of life.

“So, you’re the one making the screaming sound I hear at this time.” To Edgar’s surprise, someone had heard him today. And it was none other than his neighbour. Edgar looked down, embarrassed at his behaviour.

“Sorry,” he muttered. She laughed and he looked up at her. Her black hair played with the chilly winds. She was holding a cigarette close to her mouth. The weather made her skin seem pale, although her lips were bright red. She took a puff from her cancer giving remedy, and exhaled it. She seemed different, compared to when she had tried to start conversation with him before. She seemed...colder, less friendly.

“No need to apologize. That’s one mystery solved. Here’s another mystery, what’s your name?” Edgar introduced himself and walked up to her for a handshake. She was confused by the gesture, but extended her arms slowly, cautiously. As they shook hands, Edgar winced at the coldness of her skin. He got a closer look of her. She was wearing black eye shadow, with black nail polish. Her lips were red from what Edgar assumed was lipstick.

“I’m Anastasia. You can call me Ana though.” The two had talked until the sun had begun to rise.

“Well, Ana,” Edgar seemed more comfortable with her now, “I’m going back inside.”

“Sure, sure,” she replied. Her eyes seemed to have had more life after talking to him.

Edgar got up and turned away from Ana. As he began walking away, he paused, “You shouldn’t smoke by the way. It hinders your beauty.”

Ana looked at her cigarette and realized that the fire had gone out a long time ago. She replaced her coping mechanism with talking to the boy she’s been trying to get to know ever since she was placed here eleven years ago. She didn’t even crave the habit anymore. Edgar was looking away, so he did not notice Ana throw away the pack of smokes. He also didn’t see the woman with skin as pale as the moon, nails as black as blood, eyes shadowed with dark mascara, lips red like cherries whisper I love you.

Thursday, February 11, 2010

Preview.

I use to think that putting the past in the past is the best way to make a relationship last.
And when I passed a certain point, it was okay to stop being so cheesy.
But see, I'm branded as flirty, when I'm really being friendly.
And my girlfriend's the jealous type, use to be the teasin' type, so she's secretly mad at me.
Doesn't bug her that she's losing phone time, down time, chill time.
Until its too late to say why aren't I in your limelight?
And I always reply, I'm busy babe, school and all.
When in reality, I'm thinking, I have another call.
Then they say, I miss your voice, I called you earlier.
You did? Oh, my cellular? Yeah, it went to voicemail everytime.
So can we talk now? Sorry babe, someone's on the other line.
She hangs up, a little bit mad at me.
No guilt cause I know she's a little bit in love with me.
Back to the other call, and it's another chick.
You're probably thinking that I'm such a dick.
I know, I'm kinda proud of it.
Because being nice didn't do shit.
Always got me stuck in that friend zone.
Only got phone calls when drama hits close to home.
The phone girl asked who was that?
Don't worry girl, what matters is that I'm back.
She talks more, but I didn't pay attention attentively
All I heard was something, something, boyfriend broke up with me.
Green light, flow of conversation switched quick.
Green light, she flirtin' back, lust is lit.
Feed that fire with temptation and desire.
You're single too, right? Obviously, said the liar.
Break up with the girlfriend for this one night stand.
Cut off all ties with jealousy, so lust should understand.
I'll tell her, I broke up with her for you.
Why did you lie to me, Because you wouldn't want me to.
What matters is that I didn't picked her over you.
Would you want me to stay with her instead of you?
She shook her head, and hugged me real tight.
Said I'm happy that you're my boyfriend now.
I'm thinking in my head, don't get too comfortable now.
I have to tell you something, she whispered to me.
My exboyfriend broke up with me, because I let his heart bleed.
I cheated on him, though I would tell him otherwise.
I love you, I don't want our foundation to be filled with lies.
I smiled and she smiled right back.
This girl couldn't see how karma already got her back.

-
I think it's finished, but I kinda feel like it's not. Anyways, it's something different and I'll prolly tweak it when I get back from bowling.

Wednesday, February 10, 2010

What it do?

So, I've been loafting on this here site. Because I haven't written anything in a while. Too focused on my 365 project thing (flickr.com/photos/sinematic). There's suppose to be a snowstorm tommorow. YES. A legit reason to not go out of my house. I figure, my house is my sanctuary. Nothing bad ever happens to me. Geeez, I hope I don't become like those people that are afraid to leave their house. Okay, well, if you're so intersted in my life, follow me on tumblr. I usually post nonesesne and random things there. This right here, is for my serious things, like poetry and other fictional works of the sort. Tryin' to keep this site hella professional.

lateryears.tumblr.com

Friday, February 5, 2010

365 Days Project

Two weeks down. Fifty more to go.

Tuesday, February 2, 2010

M.I.A.

It's not like anyone checks my site, regardless. But I have been MIA for a while. All for good reason. I've been hard at work, (obviously, it's a joke). But I've been building up my photo collection with my a picture a day project. I was giving up on it, because of lack of inspiration. Until this.
A good friend of mine said to me:
"So what I like about it is that, or no scratch that. What I find interesting is that in an ordinary day these objects, people, etc; are what you choose to take a photo of. So they must have somehow impacted your day - out of the 24 hours, that one photo is the one you choose to represent that day- and I find that interesting."
Totally inspired me to see this through !