Espresso

You remind me of freshly brewed coffee in a Sunday morning. I fall in love with its scent the moment I step down the stairs with a hungry stomach waiting for a good set of breakfast.

Quite bitter with the tiniest hint of sweetness – that’s how I always wanted my coffee done.

When it’s all prepared I’d wait a minute or two to drink it so it would slightly cool off, but I’d make sure it’s still hot enough for me to feel the comfy warmth it brings in my stomach.

You remind me of coffee, I say. The first thing I look forward to in the morning, and perhaps the only thing that can keep me awake through out my day.

I always thought of it as a little reward for myself; like a prize after every achievement, or after every while when I got to finish my paper works. Sometimes, when things didn’t turn out exactly like planned, I run to a coffee shop for comfort.

It has always been a wonder for me, you know. How coffee could calm my veins in such a soothing manner that with just one sip – all the stress and anxiety of today suddenly turns in to pointless pieces of nothing. 

Sometimes, though, when I “accidentally” drink too much, it would keep me up all night ‘til I only got 3 hours of sleep.

You remind me of coffee, I say.

I remember a time when I got too addicted to caffeine until my body could no longer handle it. I felt my heart beating in a reckless manner, so much of it I found it hard to breathe. My palms were sweating cold and my whole body shivered. My lungs began to beg for air, and in that desperate moment of mine – I learned that no matter how much I loved something, too much of it would eventually destroy me.

You remind me of coffee.

You surely do.

A Combination

He looked at her
with burning gaze
filled with awe
in a wondering state

It took a minute,
but not long did it take
before he realized
she was not a mistake

She's everything at once
a hell in the calm
the night of the sun
and a billion of none

She's a combination
of black and white,
yes and no,
wrong and right

Subtle and strong,
outgoing and shy,
broken and bold,
quiet and wild

but mostly - 
he thought so very last
she is a combination
of what he loves the most
and what he can never have

never did,
never will,
and perhaps
not in this lifetime

not tonight,
not in those eyes,
and definitely
not in this sad rhyme



~ yancs  11/24/14

To heaven's mailbox

11/22/14


Dear J, 



How are you? I wanted to ask you that badly for so long. Lately I've been counting days, and to be honest, I lost track of time. I lost track not because I didn't care or that I forgot, but because I couldn't stop the sting in my chest whenever I count the days that passed since the last time I saw you.

I miss you. We all do. So much that none of these feels even real. When you left, you left everything behind. Right now I hope you're in a much better place. Right now I hope that you're in peace, and that the chaos of this world no longer affects you.

We're fine, really. In my off chance that somehow this message could reach you, I want to tell you that we're fine. We're fine, not in the sense that nothing's wrong, but thankfully, everything's still doable. Although our past month can be compared to that of a hell, right now I'm happy to tell you that we're currently in progress. I wanted to tell you not to worry because we're doing what we can to cope with the changes, with the loss, with everything you left behind.

We have our hard times, of course. Some days we didn't feel anything, or say anything about it, but the silence screamed your name so loud it didn't make a sound. I miss you. We all do.

Some nights I wished you should have held on a little longer.
But that would be selfish of me, wouldn't that be?

I remember you telling me before - in a letter you once wrote me - that I should not fear nor doubt for the Lord has His ways that we would never comprehend. You told me to believe because someday all these will make sense.

And to be honest, that's what keeps me going.

You're the sole reason why I'm still fighting the battle I didn't know I was ever supposed to take.

Because of you I held on to this tiny spark of hope that all these will connect, in the right time and in the best possible way.

You told me that I was given a gift that would serve a purpose to the ones we love, and that you told me to use it.

I promised you I would be strong. For myself, for you, for our family, for all that's left and for all its worth.

I wanted to tell you many things.

I wanted to fill this letter with every thing I wanted you to know but my words are lacking and I didn't think it will ever be possible to sum up all my aching thoughts of you. Not tonight, and definitely not this way.

Again, in my off chance that somehow this letter may possibly reach you;
I wanted to tell you that this is me, fulfilling my promises. 






Yours always,

B

Throwback Writes

PS: something I wrote last year. throwback to the days when my thoughts aren't really that organized. hahah anyway, too lazy to rewrite this one. 

The Beauty within Scars

       As human beings, we all had a time where we gained scars and have been wounded. For some, they spend their lives in hiding those marks, keeping them out of sight, because they have chosen to leave everything behind them. With all the imperfections and flaws brought by scars, somehow I still see them differently. There’s something in them that makes me admire the mark they leave on people. 

         Scars are reminders that the past is real. They remind us that we are people who get hurt too. Some scars remind us of our mistakes, even the lessons we’ve learned from them. Those marks remind us of the times we were defeated, and how we managed to get up and continue to fight. The scars serve as our motivation, a caution, and a source of courage. It tells us that there is always healing after injury, just like a new chance after defeat. Our scars simply make us stronger, wiser, and braver to face whatever lies unknown.

         Those marks imprinted on us make us whole, because it completes each of our personas, leaving a sign of our past. When everything from the past is gone, scars are the only evidence left they were real. Yes, we must leave the past behind and move on with our lives, but we must never forget where we came from. We need our past so we can learn from them to make us a better person.

         Our scars remind us that at some point of our lives, we fought for something. Those wounds engraved not only in our skin, but also in our hearts, are signs of our great love for others. Scars and wounds remind us of the pain we have felt, and tell us to help other people because we knew what it feels to be hurt. 

         One thing we should know is that we should not be ashamed of the scars that we gained. Those wounds represent the battles we have taken, and the times we have surpassed those trials. Out of suffering the strongest souls have emerged, and the most massive characters are seared with scars. Those marks are what make us great warriors.

         And just like scars, we all need to heal. Get over it and move on; because in this life, we all get hurt. We just have to choose our battles worth fighting for, and find a person worth having our scars for. At the end of the day, we must see all scars as beauty. For scars aren’t gained by the weak and quitters. Scars are marked to those who fought and survived.