first love fustration

»highschool
SCAR is not olweiz bad of having., it sumtimes reminds us of not how
painful it is to be wounded but how we got wounded and healed. I got
one, let me show it to you.

It was on my high school days when i noticed this funny little
feeling.Its crazy, kinda..tickling. I got to know a young beautiful
girl. Shes this innocently brilliant shy girl.

As time passes we become friends, ..unexpectedly close friends, but ..were open, .I dont know., basta sumthing like that,

..from sharing notes,thought, stories ..bout our experiences,
and..everything , we end up exchanging poem. fOr threE years almoSt, we
have shared everything exept for OnE thing ..feeling.

days, mos., yeaRs passed.It was fast, fast enAf that it didnt let me think of a happy ending for my last story..

iT was daRk, gloomy lights and noise of of graduation ball have
done nothing to cheer me up. I Thougt it was the glitters but I notice
iT was water in the corner of my eyes bein strucked by the lights, that
provoked the feeling.

aFter some seconds, painful words get in to my ears "..im leaving to
california" i smiled and gave her my last story "its not done yet"..i
said(that was the title also) ,it took a couple of mins, she looked at
it, gave it back to me and said "please have it ended" .and leave

..fRom then on, I havnt heard of anything bout her. mY world doomed, numb and dull my life went on..

I know its way too late to tell her "iM tired of bein your friend,
wud you be my girl?" .while giving the last letter., ..that,
unknowingly iv been practicing in one corner of my mind.

nEver imagined how a soft, crazy, sweet, funny feeling wud be bItter an painful,sharp enaf to leave me wounded.

i jUst woke up one day and realized tHat God gave me someone two
years ago to heal my wound and to turn it into a scar, a mark that now
seemed to be a word "joice " the girl who swept me off my feet..

i know sumday, she wil be reading this ..now that the story already ended, ..now that its done..

after six years..
»AN IRONY

(on my desk)

I couldn’t agree more, life is
so ironic. I just realize another episode of life’s sarcasm. Why’d you
have to meet someone and feel an utmost affection where indeed, after
six years, will turn out to be pointless?. An absurd apologue of my
first ‘Roses and Chocolates’. My first acne.

Alcohol isn’t really sweet,
life’s irony made it. every shot I take, a desire to find an answer,
and I find even answers criticize. Was it my fault for not having her
mine? well, maybe irony isn’t really the contrary that twists the
truth. its with the truth, only hard to see. and when you see, even
harder to take. Tough life.

It was my herculean task that
faced this irony for bringing “that’s life” to a reason. And when the
herculean me thought the hysteria has just been overcomed, another
tragedy was about to unfold. I witness how can irony be extremely and
sarcastically Ironic, before my eyes..”ang cute nung baby nya, kamukha
ko”. Then the pinch in my heart ironically caused me to smile. Ironic,
C’est la Vie.

»GOODBYE HOPE


(after that phone call)

Reminisce the feeling. Old, but still funny.
Faded, but sweet still.Painful but draws a smile. Gone but left traces.
Thought all hopes were long gone, but it just did.

Cuteness, purity, innocence I’ve longed, blinded
me. I click the shutter and thats so her, six years ago, that I see.
All convinced it was wrong, I opened my eyes. Thought I see the world
clearly under the clouded sky. Sky so hidden, a hope that I thought not
existing, blurred my sight. Smoke that gets into my eyes and caused it
damp. Then the just I hear in me straightens the path so I can walk.

The telephone rang before a pail of cold water
damped me awake. The truth that utters an increasing decibel from a
high note, deafening me from somewhere. I can hear it nearing and it
will eat me. I’m trembling from the sound of the fact I can barely hear
that’s shutting me off. My system is weakened and defeated by the
frequency I cant handle and dropped me down to my knee. Nightmare had
eaten me.

“She already have a baby”. Now I have to let
go of the hope that blurs, wake up in a fluvial lonely lake where the
clouded sky of hope pours down. goodbye joice..

»DAMN IT ROMEO

(reminiscing)

I remember the first poem i wrote for you
written by innocent feeling of naive Romeo
I had a hard time with words only to describe you
sweet words piled up flaunting a feeling so true.

A funny little poetry that rhymes every end of each line
Made me up all night relating ur beauty with the moonshine
In my mind was a story about “there’s you and me”
In a world so beautiful and only imaginary.

If I can bring back that time for even just a minute
Ill give you that poem and i will not replace it
With the one that I made to offer only friendship
You should have known my feelings i shouldnt have kept it.

And now, after six years of missing my Juliet
I am writing a new poem of not love but regret
coz the ten years of being Romeo of my fairy tale has faded.
“she was my Juliet but im not her Romeo” is how the story ended.

-eman