Monthly Archives: August 2015



Day 1

Do you remember that night when you left me,

a bundle of blankets outside someone’s door?

No shelter but a meager basket protecting me from the rain

as if I was a gift given on Christmas Eve but instead of

staying you just leave with no goodbyes, only two fading sounds

of you knocking at the door. Maybe that was your goodbye. I wish I knew.

Somehow I wish it was not Christmas that time because

maybe then you would not give me away.


Day 2

I remember the way you smell, like freshly cut flowers from the

woods. Never wilting, never growing old. If I may be so bold

to ask you how old you are now. Do you still look the same

since Day 1? I remember your laugh. It always made me giggle

as if your every laugh was a joke and your smile was the punchline.

I remember the time you and dad looked at me and I looked

back. Back then I didn’t know what was going on. But I remember.

Will it always only be “remember”?


Day 3

I was wondering what your names are

because my nosy teacher always asked me that question.

I’d tell her I didn’t know then she’d reply “ask them what their names are”

Can you come back to where you left me and tell me your names?

Even just your names. I’m not ashamed , not embarrassed.

I just miss you. You could see how much I miss you in the calendar

above my bed at the house where fate embraced me.

Every day in that calendar, marked “X” since Day 1.

Nothing could make me happier than to see that smile once more.


Day 45

I got an A in Math! I wish you were here. I want to see

that proud smile when I hand you my test paper.

I wrote a letter in English about who we miss the most.

Mine was good but the teacher kept asking “Why are there blank spaces?

Who do you miss  the most?” Maybe if I remember your faces

hard enough the answer will come just as I tried since Day 1.

Still nothing…


Day 72

It’s a beautiful day today! Don’t worry too much about me.

I’m being well taken care of. I’m glad it’s sunny

because if it rains, I will feel that hole in my heart expanding,

trying to bring back that moment when your footsteps echoed

as you made the distance between us farther and farther.

I’m not sad because you left me. I’m sad because maybe the rain

made you leave me behind. Maybe you’re just like me.

Maybe you also hate the rain since Day 1.


Day 109

Do you miss me?

Did I hurt you in any way?

Did I do something wrong?

Can you tell me where you are? Maybe you just

can’t travel that far anymore. I can. I’ll go to your place.

How are you now? Is dad with you today?

What happened to you since Day 1?


Day 200

Sometimes I even wonder if you are coming back.

The moment I do I smile and laugh because the answer is obvious.

Of course you will! You’re just looking for the right time, right?

Can you tell me if it’s the truth?

I hope you still remember me and where you left me since Day 1 because

you might get lost.


Day 360

It’s almost a year since Day 1.

I can feel that you’re going to come back and surprise me on my birthday.

I hope you did not bring so many presents.

Just seeing you again will be enough.

Oh! That reminds me. Advanced Merry Christmas!


Day 365

It’s cold being near the window sill.

Even though I’m inside the house it’s as if

the freezing night enters my body, telling me something I

don’t want to know. Did you get lost? Are you getting cold?

They told me to not go near the window because it’s cold.

But I want to because I can see the porch were you left me from here.

The porch in Day 1.

Do you remember that day?…





“To the Girl I’ve Never Met Before”


I know you’re tired.

Tired of hearing empty words as if

every wretched day was built from useless scraps

and broken glass dressed as diamonds in the rough.

As if every “beautiful” and “fine” weren’t enough

to compliment what’s on the outside as they often

ignore what’s inside – which I’m sure you cherish more.

And even though I’ve never met you before

I feel like I should tell you a boatload of things

which might capsize and sink if left unsaid.

Yet what I dread is the fact that I might become what you hate the most.

All those men who have looked at you and saw

not you, but a prize they want to claim. As if the aim

is to see who the toughest is by winning your hand, and winning your

heart is just a bonus game. Every man who had held your hips

like a girdle – each finger like iron clasps, tightening till you

can breathe no more. Perhaps it’s just me but don’t you see

that they hurt you more than they give beauty to you. Those men

no different than cheap make-up who promise to make you feel beautiful

without even knowing that you don’t need them at all. Then one day

you’d call your best friend and tell her it’s not working. She’d tell you

maybe you’re using it wrong but she doesn’t know you’re not talking about

the make-up anymore. You are tired of all the presents, all the praises, all the letters

and chocolate boxes and flowers and cute pet names like “Honey”, “Darling”,

“Cupcake”,  “Cutiepie”, “Bae”. They think they make you feel special but you

end up looking like a dog that they own, or someone who got into a car accident.

Everyday must be your birthday because you’d wake up drowned

in a sea of tangible things. Every hug might be filled with malice, every kiss with lust.

Those men who think they must give you everything in the world but

fail to ask you what you want the most. To prove their love they would promise

to lasso the moon for you never knowing that you don’t want the moon.

You want the little stars surrounding it.

Those men who say you complete them

as if you are a puzzle piece never meant to be whole without them. And so they

blurt out every cliche they could think of and spit it on your face.

They think of ways to make you say YES. Just that one word.

As if your heart is tied to that YES and they could pull your heart out the

moment you approve. For them your love is just a word, not a sentence,

not a paragraph, not even a story. What matters is the trophy

they could win after a game of arm wrestle. Those men who promise

to take you to a magical world filled with colors and beauty.

Yet once you agree to follow them, they lead you to a dark, monochromatic

alley and take what their bodies need from you. Then some will leave you,

like a broken mirror that can’t reflect beauty anymore. You keep trying

to piece yourself together but end up more broken than you ever were.

Others might stay. But they will chain you to that colorless alley, forgetting that distant wonderland.

And so your hands crack and form callouses from days spent working just to feed that

bump on your belly. And what really pains you the most is that they told

you to take it out, shouting “That’s not mine!”

Although I’ve never met you before, and maybe I will never do,

let me tell you a boatload of things you already knew.

Even though all of these happened to you – every hug, every kiss, every word,

every promise, no one can make you feel more special than you.

To the girl I’ve never met before, It was a great try.

But let’s start again. Hi my name  is Hope, what’s yours?





“Then You Came In…”



Night dwells inside my chamber of solitude

never hinting a shimmer. Yet in these cold

gossamer cloak of tears, wrapped in a blanket of words

with nothing but a night light of dreams

this person did not see what to some is obvious.

Did not feel what most take for granted.

Staring but never stared long enough, searching but never

looked hard enough. These are what build this person

piece by piece unraveling and forming once more.

Doors closed like prison gates, one can hear but never witness.

Yet these doors were shut by the same person.

He who hates but is loved.

She who loves but is hated.

He who is left behind when he cared.

She who cared only when left behind.

He who cries when it’s over…

And she who thinks it’s over at the sight of tears.

When will these blanket of words feel like a blanket?

When will my night light of dreams give warmth?

When will all finally make sense? We ask.



Then you came in…