Graveyard of Dreams

Your alarm’s blaring

you get dressed

your breakfast is regurgitated

your tummy flutters and

tears collect in your eyes.


Your deceased heart

is still hoping for it’s

ultimate true calling

to be financially answered.


The Look of Love

I used to only have great things to say about you. Beautiful words such as incandescent, becoming, and charming crossed my mind at the thought of you. Now I can only think of rather unfavorable terms like uncertain, inconsistent, and clueless. It saddens me to finally see the kind of person you’ve always been and not the person who was beautifully painted in my heart.

Garbage Camaraderie

Kindness will be your downfall

when you shower it upon

the temporary sort who

you will be better without.


Kindness is also needed

by them temporary sort

to educate them on how to

not treat people like pants.


Which will hopefully

change them from

temporary to permanent.


‘Cause god knows

how desperately

they need to

absofuckinglutely change.

Do You

Be yourself. Do you. How many times do you hear people telling you that and actually mean it? Be yourself. Do you. Not according to the society. Be your raw self. Be your unedited self. Be your full of flaws self. Know your rights and prerogatives as a human being. Say yes to nobody but God. Say yes to nobody especially not THE MAN. Know the difference between friends and trash who relish in your downfalls. Know the difference between true and dedicated educators and opportunistic imbeciles with master’s degrees who pray for their students’ failures and cherish every single moment of it. Accept that you being your absolute self means not expecting everyone to fathom and appreciate you. Because you belong in the minority. Because you’re different. Because you’re not a spineless yes-man. Because you’re the star among the satellites. And it may take a tad longer for the likes of you to hit a home-run. Walk on that convoluted path anyway, take your time. Fret not, Rome wasn’t built in a day. You’re an Amalfi Coast. You’re as lovely as Rome. You’re going to take some time to build you. Baby steps, ma chérie.

Living in Oblivion

And that my friend, is the burden of the knowledge ― words that are constantly uttered by Tess to me throughout our lives, among many others being the chatterbox she’s always been. It all began when my mother regarded me as her “best friend” and started confiding in me about the affairs that were taking place within the family, our family. I was only 12 then. I felt sorta special being the only child in the family to be in the know about the happenings of the family, well at least until one particular debacle that involved both my mother and father took place around the same year I was denoted the “best friend”. That’s a story for another time. Anyway, the whole thing definitely changed me and I was haunted by it for a period of time. I was completely livid at how oblivious my siblings were about everything that occurred in our family and the fact that they were not burdened by the knowledge of anything. Throughout the years I realized that I was perpetually sought after to become everyone’s shoulder to cry on. As flattering and thoughtful it may have sounded, it was not. The burden of the knowledge did not only apply to the matters of the heart or the family, it involved the academics as well. I was not always a bright student growing up. I’d completely despised studying at some point of my life. That was until I learned that education would empower a person’s future and decided to open a book and get educated. I became good at the whole studying thing and had brought home pretty impressive results. Having known to be the kind of learner who would take the extra mile to do the extra reading, I became everyone’s point of reference. And that my friend, is the burden of the knowledge. The years passed by and I had carried on with my life pleasing people with my “talents” of listening and bearing secrets. As much of a “good listener” I am, so good that I would absorb everything like a sponge and occasionally would offer my take on the matter, I am not much of an open book myself. The thought of confiding into other people about the shitty happenings of my life aggravates me. I’d much prefer to pour my soul out in the form of writing. It was not long ago when I’d decided to finally open up about the things that had bothered me to my friends. It brought relief upon me, however the feeling was short-lived. Having evolved around the same time as the technology, I was in some ways pressured to conform to the society. While it is not a crime to keep up with the world, it can in some ways take a toll on you. From this time forth, I have decided to stop carrying the burden of the knowledge. I no longer have the desire to know and to be known.