From calendar marks
And candle blows
From finger counting
And drawing on the walls
I've grown up
From crocheting words
And untitled poetry
From unfinished portraits
And solidified paints
I gave up
From reciting verses
To Evangelical choirs
From blessed testimonies
And preaching words of Christ
I step back
From the silent beat of the clock
And when the curse of the night struck
From arguing to my shadow's wit
And when dawn reminds me to sleep
I had enough
From bruised knees
And offering my palms to be whip
From crying over candies
And drumming my fingertips
Bring it back, take me back
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Inserted Nov. 12, 2020 21:45
I know that the title is a mismatched to the content but I'll leave it that way because everyone has a story
But not everyone is a good story teller. Every writer lied. If it's not, then not a good writer at all.
Kung ano ano na pinagsasabi ko, siguro kumakalam lang sikmura nitong itim na aso sa utak ko. Tinatamad na akong magisip kahit gano ko pakalmahin sarili ko pero masasabi kong Ok na ako. Matagal tagal narin akong bilanggo ng sarili kong kaisipan pero Ok na ako. Siguro. Masyado konang ginagawang katatawanan sarili ko, awang awa na ako sa katawang 'to. Pahinga nalang kulang. Pahinga at huling tiklop ng pahina.
The best medicine is to probably let it win ( The battle scars )