Lazy day with a touch of suspense

one day, he woke up,
and the day felt like a thousand others.
he reached for the phone and texted her.
she did not respond.
maybe work was busy, he thought.
the day went by. he put
lots of creamer and sugar
in his coffee. the coffee spilled
over the counter, dripped
onto the floor. he sighed and
wiped it carelessly, so it smeared
into brown patches and lines.
he got a book and started to read.
then he put it down and grabbed the phone again.
still no reply from her. he sent another text, asking
where she was. maybe she was very busy, he thought.
the afternoon arrived. he took a nap.
got into a bad dream. something happened,
he forgot. he almost always forgot why
he had cried hopelessly in such dreams.
she still did not write him back.
he wondered if he should call her.
but maybe not.
she got annoyed when work was busy and he called her and she could not talk right away, for she would not stop wondering what it was that he wanted to talk about. and it would probably lead to a small argument, which would lead to bigger arguments, which would end up with her being in tears and him feeling guilty, which would end up with them trying to make it up with sex, which would end up with him not being able to come, which would end up with her feeling upset because he could not come, and him feeling incompetent because she could not come either, and them being all melancholic and what not, and so on and so forth.
so he decided it was best not to call her.
she did not come home at the usual hour.
he kept glancing at the door, peaking his ears to noises from the street
the way a dog waited for its owner to be home at a certain time.
with every passing minute he grew more and more worried.
he texted her again. then immediately after called her.
and he called and he called and he called.
it kept going into voice mail.
he hated voice mail. he left her a few messages.
no responses.
she got home a few hours after,
looking tired as usual. apologized for being late.
said traffic was bad, then she got too hungry she
stopped at a diner and had a quick bite.
she wanted to call him but there was no reception.
her phone was acting up.
something like that.
he did not really smell food from her
not that he had enough time to take a sniff
for she had gone straight to the bathroom
to take a shower. when she got out,
he was sitting at the table, staring into the air
into nothing. her scent was soft, familiar,
and he could feel her smile and gaze upon him.
she sat down and kissed the side of his forehead,
asked him if he had eaten dinner.
he said he was not hungry. she took his hand,
placed her head on his shoulder, and closed her eyes.
they sat still for a few minutes. then he asked
if she wanted anything from the fridge.
i would have some apple cider, she said.
he got them some apple cider. they drank it.
then she said let’s go to bed.
he followed her. they got into bed,
turned the head lamp off, kissed each other good night,
and closed their eyes.
he wondered what was on her mind.
she wondered what was on his mind.
and they kept wondering
until they both
fell asleep.

written 30 November 2010

One autumn night my heart was brought home

You’re always somewhere else.
I’m never here.
What is the chance of us ending up

And yet it happened one autumn night
right upon our curious lips,
in between our intertwined fingers,
as the candle flickered to tell us
where we were. I forgot our spacetime
as you slowly broke opened
my heart. You found your way in
and for the first time I felt comfortable
being exposed, vulnerable, explored,
entered. Your growing presence became
more and more filling. I’d never known
I had so much emptiness.
It was my first time
feeling lonely no more
in the world.

Thank you for having brought
my lost little heart home
with yours.


For A.
Thanks for having held my hands.
written 06 December 2010

Requiem for the Living

early evening. it gets very dark by six p.m. in the winter.
just finished washing the dishes and putting some into the dishwasher.
n. said be careful not to rub too hard or the teflon would come off.
he was upset when i used a fork to scrape food residue on the bottom of a pot.
a. is on the phone constantly on the phone he hated customer service of a major wireless provider i shall not name (but you all know which one that is.)

he was on the phone with them yesterday too when i was in the er
a. on the cab to hospital, “what if you are pregnant?”
me, “well fuck. decision’s mine.”
a.,”I’m anti-abortion.”
talking like a true ex-republican, the love of my life.

the doctor was a bit too rough,
the nurse told me i was a big girl doing big girl thing i had to deal with the consequences.
shit, i thought, this was still good, i thought i was losing my baby. our baby.
there was no baby, they said.
maybe it was gone, i thought.
a. and i could not have been happier
and more disappointed.

he could not leave this place because of
his dog. told me maybe i should move in.
i hate that dog because it jumps onto our bed at night
trying to separate us. it has huge attachment and jealousy issues
just like i do. so i guess i could be sympathetic, but good god jesus,
it was watching us making love, having sex, fucking
and only turning away whenever i gave him a blow job.
what is the deal with that dog?

a. has two people he considers angels,
m. and g.
beautiful people – mates of his soul.
me, he sees me as a human being,
told me even his dog was more beautiful
than me, that he was really careful with his words
but i was the one who thought we had something called a
then i got upset he was not in the same
relationship i thought we were in.
why would someone tell me he loved me wanted to marry me spend the rest of my life with me fuck the shit out of me without protection
but not admitting we are in a relationship
and that he is in a soul-to-soul connection with his angel from l.a.
gorgeous woman who wants to become a nun
who shares everything in common with him
who cannot really be friends with him but
probably cannot date him because she has expectations he can never fulfill.
yet he thinks she is a firm believer in him,
told me i made him feel depreciated,
that i only appreciated him because he was

well shit, he was never mine
can’t he see that after all that is known about him his angel decided to maintain an out-of-a-novel friendship while i decided to stay with him?
can’t he see what’s real and what’s not? i guess not;
my man does not belong to the real world.
i was not either, but i was beaten almost to death by reality,
i forgot how it felt to be me,
how it felt to want something just for myself regardless of the other people, beloved or not, no matter whom.
marry me, i asked. he said yes, then “i need to think about it”, then “no no no…”
you know why? because he will only do so if he will never ever have a chance at romance with his angel.
who first thought she was so cool there was no romance ever.
then when he told her he was marrying me in a few days, she said
she was wrong that they could behave as friends and she was sorry
but she was truly wishing we would be happy.

my love, my purest love,
i just want to make sure for the rest of my life i could
try my best to make you happy, and hopefully you will be.
why do i feel so obligated?
is it because one night you had me in your arms, looking deep into my lost heart, touching my lips so softly, telling me you
loved me?
is it because i believe my life should end right here so a new one – including you and probably our miracle children and who knows who else – could begin. so i do not have to live mine any more.
it has never been mine anyways, but i just think,
maybe having you will make it a little less cold less lonely less uneventful.
and maybe i really do love you more than anybody else in this world.
maybe i want to die with you.
maybe the moment i am on my death bed – if i even have a bed then – you will fully realize how much i have loved you all my life.
maybe i will cry whenever you make a scene out of nothing, slam the door shut, and go out for a while doing your things, and i will cry and cry as i clean the dishes and do the laundry and try to calm down my hysterical babies,
and you will come home and go straight to bed without brushing your teeth and starting to snore loudly,
and the next morning everything would be okay.
maybe you will hold me close every now and then
and i will remember why things happen the way they do
why my everlasting unhappiness is joyful
from moment to moment
between the times I try to hold on to something
something about life
to hell with finding a meaning in living,
i am already so very tired.

but back to reality
i need to figure out what’s up for dinner




this is a story I’m writing.
I just find more comfort in this form rather than prose.
for now.
written 17 December 2010


What if you lost me to the other side of the Earth?
What if you were always the dark side of my heart?
We move in the same direction but we never meet
We only share mutual passion in our own heartbeats

What if you left everything behind
while I left everything forward?
Our shoulders touch and I turn away
Only to feel your hand guiding me back right under your face

What if you had left me die in my sleep?
You would stay alive, for me you would weep
One day someone else would come your way
You would reach for her hand and ask her to stay

It will be okay you say, it will be okay
For love to exist only in this fate
We wipe our tears to laugh out loud
Our misery is our eternal vow

We dance, fight, drag each other to the ground
The pain all over my body makes me aroused
As long as you are there I have someone to blame
We play the game of putting each other to shame

I am dead only because you are too
Look how much life we need to go through
Light another smoke, let this day burn out
Let me remember love the way I do now

For A.

How deep can our darkness go?

written 20 December 2010


I get it – the blues of voices blurred into a shared distance,
restless eyes upon the prize of recognition
never larger than their own.

It is not the first time I see swollen pride
but it makes me ashamed of myself
to see the mirrors of my species blinding one another.

If only could we drop it
and let us become true,
at least,
to ourselves.

in the realm of words

true story

words work like this — your mind walks into their realm — you are surrounded, overwhelmed, lost, curious, intrigued, overjoyed, content, confused, furious, saddened, numb, calm, comfortable, found, perhaps lost again — indefinitely. you can never quite get back to where you once were, but you have never left either.

you take a word, quite casually, then realize it is not for you. it does not come close to describing how you feel and what you mean. you want to put it out, but the void is now a lot more disturbing because a word was once there. (indeed, it is a void only because of that word — the one you took so casually — or it would be just nothingness.) so now you are a lot more serious in your choosing, which scares most words away. those that are not afraid are invisible to your mind’s eyes. the only way to see them is to make yourself invisible as well, to let the you fall into the nothingness of the world before words. perhaps the right word will come to your rescue. just, perhaps.

no promise. words have never promised anybody anything. people make promises with words. words themselves hold no such notion. in fact they do not even hold those things called meanings. meanings are promises people make with words.

you need to express something that is quite universally called love. you think you know it. you think you feel it. you feel that you know it. you feel that you feel it. it is here, it is everywhere, it is you in every which way. you begin to question all your promises. you are not sure if thinkknowfeelyoume means anything. you are not sure what you are. you are not sure why you are not sure, what you are not sure about, and what sure means. oh, this… love thing. it strips away everything and yet it is everything, it is more than everything, it is larger than what words could hold, and so you are completely naked. you have no words for love. love is the only word. perhaps, just perhaps, in the realm of words, there is only one word. there is only…



Farewell for a Friend

You left, because you had come.

You arrived where you belonged.

Five years ago, when we first met,
I did not know we would become the best of friends.

I did not know
I would feel like this.

In the evening we said goodbye, an unnameable feeling slowly rose in my heart.
When I got home I could not hold it in anymore – and so it burst.

That feeling which suffocated me could not be described with words.
Only with tears.

I have cried many times in my life.
Every time it has been difficult.

But ever since then, well into the next morning,
I would never again be the person I was that evening.

Dec 24, 2012