Wrinkled Baby of Grave

Gazeth upon the past is the beauty vested from thy time

Of Strands that yet art black shines with the rise of sun

When a flower blooms together with the kiss of snow

With lips that utter sweet red songs

And a heart that beats reckless of dangerous desires

Doth thy young time were cherished?

Before long when that wrinkled your soul

And your scent compared to the mud of earth

Hath you laugh on the bed of grass and embraced the strength of trees?

Before you wet your ruby cheeks of fear and forlorn

Minutes turn to hours, hours to years then gone

Thy strand of hair became silver

Thy color drained and thy painted gray

Thou laugh in little moments

With voice almost gone

Husky or solid not

But raspy and thy breath is almost out

A heart stained with sorrowful love

Of shaggy shoulders weighted wings of heaven

Then feet walk’d on the universe

A product of past and present

But in present rests thee in oblivion

A life full of question

For death is to arrive near yet no presence is to hold thy hand

And tears wet thy wrinkled cheeks

But thy cry can be heard only in thy ears

Until fear caged thy heart

Why is no one around 

To sing I a lullaby

Of happy death instead of mute goodbye?

Was it for I an old being

A creature of disgust

A wounded filth

A blinded weight to shoulder

Bones that weaken and lost

Time’s subject of patience

Description of death

Thou an old being be ignored

For soon will blend in the sand and thy will die

She’s a myth of beauty but a dying being 

Who demands for the presence of love

For in second childishness will be filled of painful cries

A baby who lost her sight 

A baby who cannot stand

A baby who peed on the ground

A baby alone in her old creaking crib

A baby we don’t care about

A baby gifted of death

And a baby forsaken of love

Cries are not meant to be heard

Her weak breath is normal to die

Until thou rests in thy grave but no one mourns

And no flower to wither on thou tomb

Blood type

There are 8 main types of blood separated into 4 groups. The groups are A, B, AB, and O. They are grouped together by the presence or absence of what is known as an antigen. Antigens are substances within the blood that cause our immune systems to create antibodies. These antibodies then kill anything the immune system thinks is a threat. The specific antigens that create the different blood types are found on the surface of red blood cells and are known as type A and type B. They’re further separated by the presence of another type of antigen known as rH factor. If you have this rH antigen present, you’re considered positive, if not, you’re considered negative. Someone that has type A antigens and rH factor is considered to have type A+ blood. If you have both types of antigens and no rH factor, you have type AB- blood. If you have no A or B antigens then you are type O blood.

All of this matters because of those antibodies your immune system creates. Someone with type A blood will have antibodies for type B, and someone with type B will have antibodies for type A. Type O has antibodies for both A and B. If you were to give type B blood to someone who was type A, their antibodies would attack the type A red blood cells causing very unwanted side effects, including possible death!

The painter in the poet’s mind

People come and go. People love. People hate. Things begin. Things end. Life is magical. Life is painful. What’s behind of all this but time.
Time is the player. Time controls us. We thought we’re wasting time, but it’s time that’s wasting our life. We believe we’re using time properly, but it’s time that deliver us to right moments. Time drives us to love and joy.

But it is also Time that imprison us to numbness and forlorn.

I know. Because time hurt me.

The tick awakens with a heart beat,

and seconds fill the minute,

when I met the soul,

that beautifies my ghoul”


The room is nothing but of people with noisy chatters and smell of cigars in the air. I see nothing but a mob of the same faces and of the same lies. When suddenly, in the corner stood a man with a paint brush and a palette, painting the most beautiful art I have ever seen. But his calm and fierce eyes is a breathtaking masterpiece that swept me off my feet.

“The time suddenly rushed,and brought me to an unexpected love.

Time is our matchmaker,It is not cupid, but Time that brought us together”

“We are vested with its power, if nothing breaks time, and so does I and the love of mine.

Time can stop life and bring the world to its end, but it is also time where ‘Forever’ mends”

All of him and his imperfections are as astounding as the universe, a masterpiece he perfected without painting it. His smile and his stares are the pages I try to read, wondering if his mind and me rests on the same place. He is all the beautiful quotations that can be found on my favorite book, the one I will read again and again.

His sweet, husky voice that speaks a lullaby between night and day, whispers to me when no one else was there to hear. And the words that he speak are the missing lyrics of a song within me. Suddenly, all the songs are about him.

Until he became my everything.

What breaks time? When we are in the spell of time, it kept me believing we are indestructible.

Time brought another hand in the clock, when we thought our promises were locked. Time causes something to arrive and stays, and it is also the brain why something has to leave the waves..

I watch how things got messed up by a single second. I felt how my heart cried in agony when you’re with someone else. I cried the nights when the moon wasn’t there to console me. There’s too much pain, until the wounds swallow me.

So I bargain my life to numbness. I won’t feel any pain,but it has come with a price.

I won’t be happy either.
“He left.” That’s the last thing I saw.

He left, believing it’s all over. When I hope it’s not.

He left, probably thinking I don’t care anymore.

He left, believing I don’t love him anymore. When in fact, I still do.




The vast of space went on for all eternity,

and time recently ticking silently,

a question left of the painter,

and a mystery left of the writer

Where is she?

“She left,” are the last words I heard about her.

She left, believing it’s all over. When I hope it’s not.

She left, thinking I don’t care anymore.

She left, believing I don’t love her anymore. When in fact, I still do.

“When?” Said he


Only then that the painter knew, there is only one thing that could ruin time

Only then the writer realized what could oppose time

She left. He left. I’m late.

“Time can bring all magic to its end, yet it is also time where forever mends.

Nothing can break the swirl of time, no space can widen what’s left of mine.”

” nothing can ruin time but time itself, even if it can be locked in a shelf,

but time can be messed up by those who can’t wait, or by those who are a second late”

Shades of Color

I was living my typical Monday morning when I realized that every  girl I bumped into the hallways are all slaying their ‘kilays on fleek’ . I don’t know if that’s a new trend or if it’s been there before but when I learned how to watch all this Make-up tutorials that’s been all over the internet I also went obsessed and crazy about contours (which I badly need for my round-shaped face), smokey eye shadows or half-crease (that’ll perfect your look and all), and most especially the different lip tutorials!

Of everything that’s been in Youtube or compilations in Facebook, I loved the lipstick tutorials the most though I don’t know why. I can’t afford the oh-so-precious ‘Kylie Lip Kit’ or any shades of new lipstick for I am only an average sixteen year old that isn’t allowed to use lipstick yet, but using.

Lipstick nowadays is not what it used to be anymore, it is not just a single color but a variety of shades that is blended together to create an art that will suit your OOTD. So, here are my Do-It-Yourself Lipstick colors.



The first color that I invented creates a Metallic gold from a warm Sunday afternoon.

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From a lazy Sunday Afternoon I imagined myself out of the City for a while, resting somewhere around the rural watching from uphill how the beautiful Sun turned gold as it sets to kiss the ocean, splashing the colors of yellow, gold and chocolate shade that creates the perfect Sunset. Sunset is just plain breathtaking, and I know it would be beautiful if you get to wear it on your lips, smiling even in the end of the day.

And when the night begins to embrace the world,

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Everything- everyone will shine their brightest light, but it won’t mean I will be left behind. I know every star in the galaxy is to shine, I just need to be dragged down to my darkest to stand out.

And lastly,



at the times you are in your darkest ,the shade of the silvery moon will remind you it’s not talking to you alone. Look up to it and remember, that somewhere across the horizon someone’s looking right at it too.



We can see it in our cold stares and dead conversations, when the air around us is filled with silence- uncomfortable silence. We both feel the absence of interest already, no more love or concern.

The butterflies had been quiet in our stomachs and the sparks had died a long time ago. The electricity don’t flow in our spines anymore. And our hearts got tired of beating fast whenever we met.

We both knew it. We both knew that it’s not there anymore, that we lost it. That the only string that’s keeping us attached is the fact that we’ve been together for so long. But if we’re going to admit it we knew we already fell out of love for each other.

via Daily Prompt: Recharge

When my Notebook started Crying

I have this journal for more than two years now but I didn’t give it a second read. As the music of the rain started playing outside, I made myself warm and cozy under my blanket and grab the journal under my pillow. I opened the first page and what’s written is, ” I have a Perfect Life.”

“I have a perfect life. I feel so loved and adored by the people around me. In our school, the guards will greet me Good Morning everyday with a smile on their faces.

I have a perfect life. I have found the ever supportive and the greatest friends in the world.

I have a perfect life. Everyday is the best day ever.

I have a perfect life. I am so blessed.

I have a perfect life.

I have a perfect life. One friend was betraying me all along. Considered me as a rival, as an enemy. Has been stabbing my back all this time. Has been making up stories.

I have a perfect life. All the people I love are fighting over the smallest things and what’s supposed to be amazing turned to something hateful.

I have a perfect life. The guy I imagined my future with left me all of a sudden without leaving a reason why.

I have  a perfect life. That friend that loved me sincerely, died.

I have a perfect life. I forgave that friend who betrayed me. Considered his reasons. Give him my whole trust again. Apologized for no reason because I believe he’s worth my pride.

I have a perfect life. All the people I love was glued together again.

I have a perfect life. Time healed my wounds.

I have a perfect life. My friend destroyed my trust and stab me from behind once again. He betrayed me again. Now, he has the whole class on his back. I have them all against me. I’m all by myself.

I have a perfect life. My pillows were there just as when I needed something to lean on.

I have a perfect life. They all started fighting again.

I have a perfect life. Every night my cries blend with the silence of the dark. Facing the side of the wall from my bed, afraid for my tears to be seen as it shimmers in the dim.

I have a perfect life. The person who said he doesn’t want me hurt, hurt me.

I have a perfect life. The person who said he doesn’t want me to cry, made me cry.

I have a perfect life. The person I thought I could run into, turns out to be the one I’m running from.

I have a perfect life.”

I have a perfect life. The coldness that felt like a thousand knives to stab me doesn’t hurt anymore. The perfect life I have taught me to be tough. Then I realized, my being tough, is my being numb.

I have a perfect life. Or did I? I always thought my life is perfect because I always focus on the good side of everyday despite of everything that happened. But sometimes, I just think it is because I already get used to all the heartbreaks and the tears. The shattering and the pain.

Sometimes, I only think it’s perfect because the pain is already normal to me.

Still, I’m holding on to that little brittle of hope that everything happens for a reason. I have a perfect Life.

Daily Prompt: Reach

<a href=”https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/reach/”>Reach</a&gt;

<a href=”https://dailypost.wordpress.com/photo-challenges/fun/”>Fun!</a&gt;

Dreams Apart

I glanced outside the window and watched the beautiful typical scenery. Bunch of kids are outside playing outdoor games and riding bikes. Friends happily chatting, trees standing very green. Mothers passing by with grocery bags in their hands and it all happened beneath the sky ceiling. What a wonderful world I’m living in. Then it strikes my head, if we really are alone in this universe, why are we? Isn’t it possible that the two of us exists somewhere else?

Couples living in from both ends of the world could be having the hardest time being in a long distance relationship. Being miles apart and yet can’t do anything when they misses each other so bad. One is sick and the other can’t take care of him. Spent holidays and anniversaries apart, and in times they have been together and have to get separated again everything becomes misty and the only thing that reminds them that they’re true are photographs and souvenirs. Then if they met again, there would be no single minute that one hasn’t thought or worried of losing the other one at the end of the day.

Long distance is hard but it’s possible. The only thing that’s keeping them apart from each other are miles of distance. Miles separating you apart is hard enough, how much more if you’re universes apart? It is common knowledge that we only have one universe but for me we have two.

One, is above those skies and the other, lies beyond our minds.

That’s where he lives. In the second universe. Inside my mind. In my dreams. That’s how we’re separated. Being dreams apart is the hardest, the barrier between the two of you is the fact that you’re not real. The fact that we’re both existing, but there’s no “us.” The fact that all that’s going on are just wishes.

So sometimes that I want to be with him his presence in my thoughts is enough to find consolation. His imaginary hug is all the warmth I’m ever going to need during the freezing rainy days. Talking to the moon is the only way I find to communicate with him.

And at times I’m choking back sobs the only thing I can do is to wish him to have an amazing day whenever mine is not.


Lone Tree on Cemented Pavements


On my way home I found this tree from the corner of my eye and it just amazed me of how beautiful this tree is, standing alone in the midst of cemented pavements and tall buildings. As I look around, my mind created pictures of how this tree was supposed to be in a grassy meadow beneath the golden sun, instead it is standing very green in the middle of a city in a modern age. It is like a past visited the future or a present with a hint of the past. And what it meant to me is how this tree could remain tall even if every thing around it turns gray.


If the Thunder roars, growl back.

You could see the beads of sweat trickling down his temple and his eyes move quickly as if checking on everything. He balled his fists tightly and gulped once, but despite of it he looks normal like nothing bothers him. However, what’s inside his chest is a raging storm and Every beat of his heart sounds like a thunder roaring. Worries encircle him but he managed to battle that negative thought.

Inside our strong exterior are mini versions of ourselves from a boat on a raging ocean of pain, fear, worries and disheartenment. There may be reasons to be scared; we might fall and we might drown. Sometimes the thunder bellows and give us the fright or how big the mouth of the waves are. It made us physically and emotionally drained, made us hopeless and restless. There will always be instances and reasons to be down and to lose hope. It’s okay. We can’t avoid those as we can’t avoid the disasters from coming but we must never be discourage.

In the midst of snarling waves, we should have the will to keep holding on and not be carried away with the splash. Beneath the dark horrific skies we must picture a sunny day above the glittering ocean at the back of our minds to inspirit us that we can survive. That there are colors remained even if  it’s just imagination.

If you knew it already that the sea will engulf you, do not drown yourself more. Swim away then gasp for air. If your surroundings bury you to the ground, dig yourself up. If you’re worried, do not be discouraged. You’ll scare yourself more, instead, scare them back.


A Lone Tree.

I am on my way home from school,beads of sweat trickles down my neck because of the burning sun above me. My eyebrows are knitted and my face could totally tell how tired I am of all the work I have yet to do. Sometimes I am on the verge of giving up from walking this far everyday, from all the works they put on my shoulders, from everything. Then, from the corner of my eye I saw one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen. A picture that tells a thousand words. A painting that tells a beautiful past, an inspiring story. A Lone Tree.



I have been walking this way home ever since. With all the cars that drives this way everyday, of all the people that walks with me, of all the thoughts that run my mind, I haven’t notice this tree before. But now, I appreciate it despite of a tiring day and the hot weather where I am like walking in the desert, I have found a fountain of hope.

When I saw this lone tree, I looked at my surroundings. I am in a civilized place where there are tall buildings, cemented houses, cars passing by and teenage girls who talk about their crushes. But instead, what I saw are tall grasses that turns into gold as the sunset was close. There are no cars or buildings, just a lovely meadow that looks golden because of the sunset. It is like autumn. And in the far end is where the tree is standing- and it is not alone. In both of its sides are trees that made it three in total.  The trees look so peaceful. Until the tree from the right was cut down by men to be sold in the market, the other was cut down too. And the tree in the middle remained standing.

I know the tree is still young, but that is what I picture in my mind while looking at it. The lone tree is the last one standing. I am not going crazy here. What I meant is when I looked around the tree was surrounded of a modern age where the ground is cemented instead of a grass and the tree is like the only natural thing. It is like a picture of a past visited the future or the present with a hint of the past. It is like standing after all the changes you went through. It is like remaining tall after every one around you surrendered, after every one has left. It is like the toughest to be the last one standing

Can you also appreciate the beauty of this lone tree in the midst of changes? Can you also stand alone with your head held high in the crowd of similar people?Can you also be tough? Can you also be unique and live with it?

Because a Lone tree can still make it to  look beautiful and green even if everything turns gray.