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Do Souls Have Tears?

“When I die and you’re not where I am, please have the heart to record your eulogy and send it to my funeral. Make it beautiful, so beautiful that my eyes would well up with tears.”

“I couldn’t make you cry. You’re already dead.”

“Do it, so my soul would.”

As to how long your soul would last on the premises of the living for you to hear what I have to say about you and somehow touch your soul, I wouldn’t know. Nonetheless, I have nothing to lose if I try. Maybe I haven’t told you that when I was younger, I used to write my prayers, wishes and secret messages on a piece of paper, burn it as soon as I finish, hoping the wind would carry my words and whisper it to God’s ear. I thought it was faster than prayers, so I considered doing that for you…

But if I did, no one would ever know how lovely and lively, how tragically beautiful, how witty and fun you were. I guess the world deserves to know.

For all those times you stood awake, even in the 5-hour time gap, thank you. Though things have not been good to us all the time, you were one of those people who chose to stay, accepting me for who I was, who I am and who I’m not.  I will definitely miss your encouraging words. The comforting assurance you give when everything doesn’t seem to be on track. I will miss how you carefully choose your words and make things easy. I will miss the thought of you just being there, whether we are talking or not. Maybe we forget the value of a person when we know that they are always available and I’m sorry… for not being able to reach out as often as you do.

We could’ve done so much if distance was cut short. We could’ve gone places, ate too much and sang an awful lot of 80 and 90’s love songs only people like us would relate to. I could’ve seen you push yourself to fit on a jean which is one size short or squeeze yourself in a skirt. It would have been hilarious and worth remembering… because it would be with you.

I think the world deserves to know how strong you were, how enduring your spirit was. You were one heck of an Incredible Hulk. You bore sorrow and carried a lot of burdens. You have cried tons, got disappointed one circumstance too much, grieved, mourned… and yet you stood up fighting. You may have come out crying amidst all the inconvenience that the world threw but you, you came out fighting. And if that doesn’t make you a wonderful woman, I don’t know what will.

****

Because in this life and even on the next, you will always be in my heart.

****

In response to the Daily Prompt.

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The Circus That Is Politics

He swiftly took the sealed envelope handed over to him and made his way to the line.

“Show me your ID and sign over here”, the lady with a wrinkled face and sad lips spoke without looking at his face.

“Precinct No. 1”

He knows the drill. He took the secrecy folder and snatched a black pen.

Seated on the old wooden arm-chair, he slowly shifted to take a better look of the envelope. A small, bold number was written on the upper left. “14”

****

Sealed in that envelope was a 100 peso bill. Enough to sustain his family’s needs for the day.

It is done.

Papers are scattered on the streets like leaves during fall. Gone were the loud jingles, gone were the shirts with faces of smiling monkeys. Gone were the free water bottles with slogans. All there is left are laughing lions, sitting comfortably in their den, waiting for the proclamation of their next reign. The clowns are grinning again, ready to show you the trick which has been laid down to you over and over; those bargained manipulative promises.

 

Was he entertained? Did he get what they paid him for?

******

In response to the Daily Prompt.

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Blank

She left with no sign of who she was and who she came to be.

You say you can see her? I tell you, you’re a fool.

She isn’t that long wavy hair nor that fair, pale skin.

She isn’t that pretty face.

What you thought you’d known of her are just prevarications of who she is

And what she isn’t.

You overlooked, mistaken her for somebody who you try to mold into someone who favors you.

She’s gone.

And all there is now is an empty shell. A girl you thought you knew but never accepted.

Response to Daily Prompt.

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Sure There Will Be

Winter shills

Freezing nights

You look around

Nobody is in sight

 

Tears well up

Sobs build up

You call his name

He’s nowhere to find

 

Silent weeps

Heavy eyes

You surrender

To the night

 

No my darling

Don’t give in

To the fears

There’s always light.

 

Walk away

From the scare

Just look up

To the sun rays

 

There’s always somebody

To reach out to

The rainbow’s looking

After you.

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Untitled 6

 

“Close your eyes.

Look around you and tell me what you see.”

 

“I see people.

People with heads made of clay. People carrying bags full of paper constantly looking at their watches that’s made of gold… yet, the numbers on these watches aren’t there. They glance past things with a sweep of their eye, never really looking.

I see beggars dressed like gods in clothes made of paper yet priced like diamonds. They carry with them empty pockets. And whenever they smile, they grit their teeth. Like something very painful is going on, on their heads.

 

I see boxes… with light… white light… and the people are preoccupied with it, continuously staring at it like their whole life depends on it. They look for the box in their sleep, while they eat or shower. I see chains, dangling and crisscrossing everywhere, like everybody is tied with one other. They look choked up.

 

I see flowers… once bloomed but are now scattered like leaves, lifeless on the ground. Dragged by the wind into the trash, mingling with the garbage. It is a paradise of white and gray. Of black and a darker black. Pavements are made of spiky glass and slippery filth. This is their kingdom.”

 

“Now open your eyes and look at the mirror, tell me what you see.”

 

“My head is made of clay.”

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Untitled 5

“I just can’t stand a relationship without romance.” Aiza

 

I want a love that consumes all the happiness I have,

Not just the ones that overflows.

A love crazy enough to have me writing poems, sing in the shower, dance while I cook, stick love notes, and hang candid pictures.

A love that inspires.

A love that hungers for each others happiness.

A love that radiates.

 

I want a love that hungers for more love.

A love that aches, so that I may be able to understand a greater form of love.

A love that feels like a nice cup of coffee, the first taste of a cheesecake.

The love that feels like a sip of an ice cold soda on a scorching hot day.

 

I want a love that drives me into loving others.

The love that desires to be felt and be given.

A love that excites, full of enthusiasm, of desire, of passion.

I want a love that feels like cuddles, of first kisses, of that look whenever im not looking.

I want a love that cares. The one that gives rather than receives.

 

 

I want a love that hums of my favorite song.

The one that tickles.

The one that bleeds.

The one that never ceases.

 

But most of all I want a love that helps me grow.

A love that aids me into loving myself and loving life.

A love that relieves, a love that endures.

A love that’s unconditional.