To our superhero who keeps spreading his wings for us, this is for you…

And maybe, that’s the best thing about superheroes. They never come with perfection or even prestige. Somehow, during breakdowns, midnight rushes with a glimpse of coffee and tears, shoulder pats and stern looks every time the curfew gets done, and when Mama couldn’t take the ten-minute drive to a nearby grocer, their strong personality comes…

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When a writer falls in love,

When a writer falls in love, No metaphors left behind When a musician falls in love, Every strum produces such lovely rhythms But when you are both, You’ll spend the night writing poems with melodies – Kath Panugan

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In the next lifetime,

Put a warning sign Paste it right on your forehead So I wouldn’t spend another lifetime loving someone like you, again. With that warning sign, I would know, there’s a danger awaits if I’ll insist. A lot of pieces of me were scattered already And in my next life, I will just spend my seconds…

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Fire

I’ve been imagining how safe it feels to avoid the fire without even thinking that getting burned is a feeling too. – El

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When I said, ‘I love you’…

… I didn’t mean that you are the another piece of me Nor my Romeo who’ll die for me When I said, ‘ I love you’ What I mean was, I will spend every second of my life loving you. Without doing something in return Nor spending your life with me. Just let me, Just…

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The moment I stopped writing about you.

I still look for you in every piece I write lately. I still look for the metaphors that described you in ways that I couldn’t. I still look for the chapters where we’ve been once, and in the paragraphs where I had my worst and in the periods where you came and saved me. I…

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Losing is an art

It takes an artist to dig into it Just to understand its angle and details But in this art, Please be an artist For you to understand That there’s a beauty in losing someone So that you won’t spend your night Sitting in the corner And asking yourself, ‘Am I not enough?’ – Kath Panugan

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Never your Constant

Perhaps, I was never in my constant. I was a love yet a heartbreak at the same time. I was a coffee spill, a teardop, a heavy breeze or even a journal’s old sheet after all. Somehow, I was the hurricane behind the clouds, the never-ending movie in the cinema, the map of the lost…

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