# data[].attributes.body
She lays on the cold tile floor as lights turn off for bedtime

With no choice but to fall into a slumber alone only to be awoken by rats and roaches that sneak around corners

Leash tight unable to come after she sits there, alerted and irritated

Unable to return to sleep, sunshine begins to seep through the window and warmth welcomes itself into the room

Roosters being crying at the unholy hour of 5 in the morning, birds gather around the front yard

She sees them, frustration

Rays reflect onto her coat of matted fur, with no choice, leashed, she desperately calls out, scaring the roosters and birds away.

She’s alone once again.

They’ve awoken, pans klanging, utensils clinking, sizzling of the food heard from across the room

Her nose tickles her, she begins to start sniffing the sweet scent of today’s meal, eggs and bacon

They’ve called for breakfast, everyone has gathered
She sits in awe, hoping for a drop or two

Drooling, paws stomping against the warmed tiles, limitations let her reach only so much.

Giving up, she lays down waiting for her meal
She wishes it was as scrumptious as what they ate
she takes a look outside once again, meeting another one of her kind

tired, she simply stares

wondering what her life would be like if she was free?

# data[].attributes.body
i don't hate you anymore
the rain has passed
i think i can breathe better now
and sleep sound.

thank you for passing by
you watered my crops
thank you for helping me grow
this is a goodbye.

# data[].attributes.body
The bland walls look down upon me every day. The cool breeze from the air conditioner sends chills down my spine whenever I wake up to another late afternoon. Wrapped in a blanket on a bed that feels empty, weight as light as a feather, I felt like I was floating—subconsciously playing in my head were sirens that reminded me I was nothing. Not in the wrong way; I am here, but hollow. Almost as if I was lost in the middle of a meadow full of roses, running through the vast, endless grass- I knew nothing, knew nowhere.

If not every day, there are days like these when the skies look far too gloomy to look up and smile. Days where my hands don't feel like my own. When cars pass by, their interruption of the silence almost acts like a wake-up call snapping me back. Dissociation is something I do so much that I would be too overwhelmed without a brief pause from reality. Dissociating to me is grasping the remnants of my distorted sanity. Is it possible to be so attached and yet detached at the same time? For the lack of better words, this is how I feel. It feels euphoric to be with the right people at the right time- sometimes, it feels too unreal that my psyche takes a step back. I then watch the whole scene unfold through a camera in my head—ubiquitous faces, voices, people, movement- what was then so familiar now felt unsettling. My friends often laugh at me, "Hoy? Awa, wala na'sad ni siya naminaw," calling me back to earth was such a common practice they had to do that at this point, they have left me to be- lost in my thoughts and my world.

Mingling with people has been proven to be such a complex task to accomplish too. I can no longer recall when was the last time I was present as myself. A gentle rage harnesses within my chest- why is it that I build countless homes in others and yet manage to leave myself homeless when alone? Slowly going adrift, slowly finding myself lost. I have many friends I fear losing- no, I know many people I fear scaring away- and so I become someone else. Don't get me wrong, I fear losing people, but I am an overused walking mirror that will shatter one day. With a few laughs and hello's, reused and recycled jokes; I slowly take mental notes of others' behaviors to fit them like a puzzle piece. I had been so desperate to grab onto someone to save the sake of me losing my ground, and yet here I am, slowly abandoning the old portrait of me. When I can no longer keep up with them, I prepare for their departure—an expected goodbye.

Reading the room was like reading without my -5.00 prescription eyeglasses. It was as if there was a humidifier spraying out an ‘abstract noun’ mist. Abstract nouns are bizarre. Intangible and unique to every individual, everyone owns their portrayal of what love, sadness, anger, and many more are. I've always wanted to properly grasp what these concepts were, but then again, they're something intangible. How am I to take hold of something that isn't there? How am I to understand something so complex? Since that thought had crossed my mind, I started to wonder. Do other people feel like this too? Nightly, I slump in my chair and ponder- were abstract nouns always this confusing? Or have I not seen enough for a young child to understand? Through the fire, I feel like I have gotten softer. My heart has become more considerate; I have learned many and seen many. I have failed many and brought happiness to plenty. I have grown- a strangely heartwarming and yet terrifying aspect of life to discuss. I’ve started to understand abstract nouns, slowly. Not even sure, but slowly.

I always thought I was strong. Maybe not physically, but I always thought I was mentally unstoppable. What used to be scornful faces and insulting words now fly over my head. I was stronger back then, though. I had a garden with a blanket of iris flowers. Whoever they were had trampled all over the garden I tended to. What was once there no longer blooms; I have stopped tending to this garden. What used to be a student that would daily be burning the midnight oil has finally gone to bed and slept. What used to be the pinnacle of an ace student had become the epitome example of a burnt-out gifted kid. What was once me is no longer.

It haunts me daily—fragments from the past, the unnerving fickleness of the future—tethered by questions upon questions that wrap around arid memories of regrets. I feel so determined to breathe fresh air; however, my will and hesitation do the tango together on the dance floor. Maybe I should take the chance and join their dance too? Or will my cowardice decide to take front? Either way, I am a dancer- I’d like to show my moves. A freestyle of spontaneous decisions and not-so-well thought out choices. What a show.

The world has painted different colors as I've grown. Walking, and walking, and walking, down empty halls that echo in my chest. I have yet to find myself; I have yet to take a step and realize reality. It takes character and courage to face a ruthless world; not that many people possess those qualities. Many are afraid. Many want to hide and keep themselves silent for fear of experiencing worse. That demographic includes me.

Though, one day- maybe I'll find myself. Maybe one day, I'll wake up to see the walls suited to my taste. I'll wake up in the morning early enough to experience the golden sun softly gracing my skin. Maybe there will come a day where my hands feel like my own, where the steps I take will have a purpose, leading to somewhere pleasant. A day where I am present in the present, not hollow. A day where I'll build a warm and welcoming home inside myself, for I wish not to hear my empty chest echo with a music box of cries no longer.

If there is a will, there is a way.

I will try—every day. I hope you do too.

# data[].attributes.body
what used to simply feel like a room with muted gray and yellow walls, now feels too complicated- a comfortable cage. almost like the walls grew pairs of eyes, i felt as if i was being held hostage.

my own reflection looks unfamiliar. who are they? who was the person just a week ago? just an hour ago? just a minute ago? who is on my social media? i took those pictures, bared the effort to edit and select an engaging caption, and yet when i look back at the pictures they seem far too different and distant, that's not me. what looks to be the materials, the unfinished projects and the hated products of my spark interests and hobbies lay around. how come i know how to do so much and yet i have done so little? how come i've bailed out of the many things i invested in? why?

why?

the ice starts clanking as i circle around another glass of coke- an unhealthy habit manifesting itself once again, acid eating me inside out. i thought i was doing exceptionally well and yet out of all the places my feet could have taken me, i been brought back to the beginning of the cycle. i could've been to the moon, the mall, the road outside my house by now, and yet the only place my feet have taken me is back to my room. where a dim light glazes upon my face as i boringly stare and watch the same old videos again.

# data[].attributes.body
i sit on my old leather chair, covered with a blanket born from different fabrics i stitched together. i longingly stare out my dusty window, now a habitat to critters and spiders. the moon i have known for long has always been associated with a cool breeze, a tint of blue, and a cool-toned white halo shining over, but tonight was a bit different. i step over to the chimney to light a fire, floorboards creaking as i approach. the chimney was built out of red bricks, but now it presents itself in a dusty bland shade of gray and chipped red cement. the wood started crackling as i felt the heat surround my face.  the fire was so bright, it was a blinding yellow with occasional shades of burnt orange. i head over to my fridge to grab carbonated lemonade, one of my favorites. but, something is off. the empty, hollow space i felt in my chest was so large, you could nearly hear my heartbeat echo. what could i possibly lack when i've lived life to my limit? i was ready to bid farewell to the world. all i had left was the wait, the long, lonely, and unsettling wait for a tomorrow that i may not attend any longer.

i then remember.

at some point in life, i met a person whose skin was fair and was as delicate as their hands. they were gorgeous. how their eyes resembled that of a cat's. their gaze was always turned towards me too. i remember the thin, fine smile lines that would peekaboo every time they flashed a grin. an accentuated cupid's bow paired with their rose-colored lips, they had the most beautiful smile i've seen. i would love to live another day just to see it. right, i've met this person. i remember.

they were caring and kind. straightforward and was fearless when it came to straightening me up. they were fiesty, and was a commendable comedian. an introverted kind, anxious when faced with new faces. they were androgynous, a prettily handsome person that always caught my eye. they were flirtatious, one could consider them far too cringy and clingy; they stuck onto me so often that we would joke we were merging. and we did. our thoughts synchronized, arguments that were far too peaceful to even be called arguments. they are the best. they are everything to me.

but now, they live with me as a memory. a fragment of the past, a reason for longing in the present. they bid a farewell far too soon than i would have liked.

they are the home i have longed for.
they were the home i have been home to.
they are now the home i no longer live in.

what is now a gray, dusty and chipped chimney used to be a beautifully decorated fireplace with a bright shade of red that santa would've loved to drop gifts to. what is now a creaky floorboard used to be polished and shined, boards that always had two pairs of feet walk across them. what is now a dusty window with cobwebs and spiders used to be a window i would come home to with them on the other side, patiently waiting for me as they play with our pet. what is now a blanket that gives me warmth as i sit on this cracked-leather chair, used to be what kept them covered under the sun; their clothes that always had their scent. what is now a solemn moon, used to still be a solemn moon. though it didn't feel so cold as i had someone to stare at it with.

what was once home has now gone.
you are now gone.
i am now the house where you will forever live in.

i miss home.

# data[].attributes.body
i find comfort
in admiring your lashes as you sleep
hearing the soft muffled inhales and exhales
seeing the camera move ever so slightly from each breathe you take
how a strand of hair falls perfectly on your forehead

all i want is to see you peacefully slumbering in person
and take care of you
what a delicate person you are.