untitled. unlabeled.

I burned the bridge into ashes and stopped looking your way.
Bored a hole on my being and successfully flushed out your name.
Crushed the songs you usually sing and and threw all the lyrics away.
Painted my view with bright happy colors and used gray to blur your face.
Inhaled the fragrance of a fresh start and made sure that it’s your smell that I exhaled.
Abandoned the garden of our memories and used my pain to build a gate.
Filled the sky above it with clouds of pent-up emotions and put some tears so it would rain.
Transformed my regrets into thunder and made lightning out of my despair.
Now that I successfully transformed all my hurt, there’s only one thing left to make.
I shall take one last look of this painful masterpiece and then finally walkaway.

pms writing

Been feeling extra sensitive and extra emotional lately. Maybe this is just pms talking.. errrr, writing. In ordinary days, the only tweets you'll see on my account would be the ones I cross post from my IG. But now, I've just posted my seventh tweet for the day. I repeat, seventh.

Odd as it may seem but today, I really feel like a pail filled with water... so full that even the slightest of movements can and will cause spillage. And like any liquid, volatile as it naturally is, it will eventually go away on its own. It will evaporate on thin air and will leave no trace. Like nothing really happened. Like I never said anything. Like I never felt anything.

I am not word vomiting, am I? PMS, go away.