I grab the paper cigar box and rattle it around to see if something’s left Turing up the radio Walking towards the kitchen I need coffee now This is how I wake up
Love and hurt are a balance tipped by nature or error. Values are nature’s mirror reflecting beauty or horror.
Patawad sa panahong inuna ko ang kaligayahan ng iba. Sa pagkakataong ito ikaw naman ang pipiliin ko.
His love swung low Gathering me up Leaving nothing behind Broken pieces and busted edges Acknowledging my need to heal
“you're dead on your own footing; now, go back to raw self-preserving”
Culture is growth until it fractures progress with duress and fails to impress. Culture is relevant until made remnant when it tortures people’s existence.
And it will take bigger scales to weigh out the quantities we will need to survive.
I get a feeling of good old days when I was alive with lots of questions Then unanswered.
Yet only when a heart grows bold to unfold vulnerability will reformation turn worry and rejection into love’s affirmation.
Hirap ako Hirap na aluhin ang sarili ko Napagod ako. Naririnig ko parin ang paghikbi.
What do I do with this suicidal lust? How can I live with this festering greed?
Tipong hindi nila nakikita sa iba Pero tangan parin ng isip nila Kahit hindi ka nila kasama