i thought i could stay away

it turns out that i can't stop writing for too long.

[vncommitted]

When I start school, I can still switch effortlessly from English to Tagalog. English is my second language, Though I've been told you'd never know unless I told you. Before being raised in the West, I was born in my homeland, In a probinsiya called "Tiaong Quezon", To a Kuting and an Udoy, Who are also a Consolacion and a Roel Who became a Lucy and a Roland  To friends that didn't even bother to learn how to say their names. In elementary school, I lose the ability to speak to my grandparents. I understand everything they tell me  But can only respond in broken syllables, Ashamed that one of the only things I brought with me to this country was my tongue, And I didn't even bother to keep it. When my grandfather dies, It is the first time I have tried to say "I love you" in years. "Mahal kita." It feels foreign on my tongue  The way I feel foreign in this country   And maybe that's punishment for not being able to pick a side: American or not. Like me, The words are afraid that they'll sound too foreign to be listened to, Too many vowels lined up next to each other to flow smoothly. You say "forever." I say "Mag-pa-ka-i-lan-man." I'm almost in high school before I pick it back up again,  Before I reach into my drawer of my chest to search for my dust covered tongue The way you never really let go of your first teddy bear Even though you haven't seen it since you were a child. I'm tired Of not being able to talk to my mother in the language that she taught me, Tired of her asking if I can still hear her accent when she speaks English. I can. It sounds like home. I stop teaching her how to make it go away,  For selfish fear that one day I won't know what it sounds like anymore, Fear that the harsh vowels in my blood will start sounding like a hum, Flowing too smoothly to have ever come out of my parents' mouths', Wondering when my own words went from jagged rocks To quiet streams. Now, When my words slip when I'm talking to my nieces and nephews, When I say "Sabihin mo na lang sa akin" Instead of "Just let me know," I am proud.  And when I hear them talking to their mothers, Saying "Mahal kita" instead of "I love you", I know they are too.

Yung Babae Na May Dalawang Dila//The Woman With Two Tongues (#211/?)

[vncommitted]

Sometimes I want to ask you to love me, But I'm afraid I'll melt right between your fingers. You never quite learned how to hold Something as ruined as me.

Empty Space (#210/?)

[vncommitted]

You said you liked me small So I stayed small. Small, to fit in the palm of your hand. Small, to fit in the space between your fingers. Small, so you couldn't feel me struggle When you closed your fist around me.  Small so I wouldn't take up too much of your space. I felt like a fairy, Like Tinkerbelle, Like someone so minuscule my body could only hold one emotion at a time, So that when I loved you, It made the space between my bones ache. And when I didn't, It made the space between my bones ache. I was okay with being small As long as it meant you could keep holding me,  Keep loving me the way you did, But I realized it was because you would be too weak to love me if I became anything more. So I did.

Small (#209/?)

[vncommitted]

I know now That the best love I've ever had Is the one that you have given me, Where maybe you can't read my mind But you always listen when I have something to say. Where maybe we fight Like a hurricane meeting an earthquake But the calm before the storms always feel like home. Maybe we are cold and distant But we still hold out our arms, Longing for the warmth kept inside our rib cages. Maybe our love is not perfect, But it's the best one I'll ever have.

And Isn’t That Enough? (#208/?)

[vncommitted]

I wonder if my mother knows that she sounds like a goddess, If she knows her rolled r's and sharp s' Have always led me all the way to the altar. I wonder if she knows my name sounds holier when she says it. My mother's accent is not for non believers, Not for the people that won't take the time to dissect her words, Or listen closely for the things she says differently, Her voice is not for the ones who think her English has to be perfect to mean something. My mother's English is broken, And fragmented, And shattered, And put together in a language that's only meant for her children to understand. My mother's accent is love. In the way she stumbles on letters, I hear how she struggled to learn So that she may provide a future for her children That will never know what it is like to hear That the words they say will always be different, No matter how many years they've been speaking. I hear my mother shrink into herself When someone mocks that she does not know what word to use next And I tell her to be strong. My mother's accent is strong. My mother's accent is brave. My mother's accent is sharp. My mother's accent is love.

Accent (#207/?)

[vncommitted]

I never thought I'd see the day, When I searched inside myself, And didn't smell anything burning. I never thought I'd see my garden Empty of weeds and ashes, But thriving with life From the spring within me. With you, I've learned That love doesn't have to shatter buildings, Or cause thunder storms. It can be drinking hot tea, Wrapped in the blanket your grandfather gave you. I've run away from love my whole life, Only to come home to you. I'd like to stay a while.

I'd Like to Stay Forever (#206/?)

[vncommitted]

I once told you That I wouldn't let you love me, Even if you could. You laughed at me and said There was no way I could stop you, Even if I tried. How right it feels To be proven wrong.

right // wrong (#205/?)

[vncommitted]

So as you know, this is a writing blog. Writing is art. Art is a form of political speech. So I'm using this blog as a way to post some. If you follow my main blog, you know what my current opinion is on the current Tump administration. So I'm gonna let it all out here so everyone knows and there's no question about it. I'm a member of the LGBT community, a person of color, a woman, and a non-citizen immigrant. I am mentally ill, and was at one point a victim of sexual assault. None of Trump's administration is for me, or people like me, or the people that I love. I don't support him in any way, shape, or form. I DON'T WANT to support him. People like him don't change. Racism, sexism, and transmisogyny are so deeply ingrained into his character that I don't have any hope for him. I can't afford to have hope for him. My optimism could get me and the people I love hurt. Giving him a chance and hoping he'll change could kill thousands of people. If you support him, if you believe in his America, you are contributing to the hate he is spreading, even if you've never done anything yourself. If sexism, racism, and transmysogyny aren't deal breakers for you, then you're sexist, racist, and a transmysogynist. You are not welcome to my words. I don't write for people like you. Please unfollow me.

[vncommitted]

I feel that if we ever stop loving each other, I'll always have a soft spot for you. No matter who I love, How long I love them, Wherever we are, I'll always like you most. I'll always like who I was with you the most.

Soft Spot (#204/?)

[vncommitted]

We are both made of monsters And sins and ghosts, But my demons have always been blazing fires Where yours have always just watched the destruction. Your monsters looks like mine because I had given them to you.

Gifts (#203/?)

[vncommitted]

1. I keep his memory locked inside my ribcage, right under my bones so I can keep him safe. I can't remember where I put the key to let him out. 2. I wear big eyeliner everyday and I'm thinking about trying out lipstick. If this is something you can't support, you know where to find the door. 3. I change my hair if I feel too anxious. It helps me believe there's something in my life I can control. 4. I get tattoos with no meanings sometimes. I think that those have the best meanings of all. 5. Sometimes I don't love doing what I love doing. That includes singing songs and driving late at night and holding you and I'm sorry. 6. I'll tell you that I put myself before you but really put you before myself all the time. I'll hide it from you really well and get really upset when you don't notice. 7. I can't promise I'll be here tomorrow. Whether it's a plane ride or the barrel of a gun, I can't promise I won't run away. 8. I won't get better. People like me don't get to get better. 9.The thought of meeting your mother makes me nervous. What if she hates me? What if she thinks I'm not good enough? What if you realize she's right? 10. I am not good enough. It is hard to be with me in all the ways you think are not real. You will not succeed, and I won't be able to blame you.

Ten Things I Wish I Remembered to Tell You in the Beginning (#202/?)

[vncommitted]

The thought of you loving someone else scares me, But not as much as the thought Of someone else loving you. It's something I think of a lot. I wonder what she'd be like, How she'd talk, How she'd walk. I wonder how fully you'd let her replace me. If she'd come into your mother's home and make dinner. If she'd lie in our bed, Leave her hair on our pillows, Kiss you good night and fall asleep wrapped around you. I wonder if she'd try to make you forget about me. I wonder if she'd succeed.

Wonder (201/?)

[vncommitted]

i feel like i’m too personal when i write now. i feel like i’ve lost sight of what i want my words to mean. i can’t just write you love letters forever.

[vncommitted]

I wonder if he hates That I wear your ghost like a second skin, That I'm cursed to miss you forever, And make him promises I've already broken. I wonder if he blames me. I've already accepted that your shadow follows me Because I keep you alive in my rib cage, But I wonder if he notices That all of our hearts beat the same, As if you were always meant to be a part of us. I've put your memories under his skin. I don't think he's ever noticed.

Skin (200/?)

[vncommitted]

I'll admit it, I'm still bitter.  I'll hold everything against you forever. That you kissed me first, Even though I let you. That you loved me, Even though I begged you to. That I make myself keep you alive, Even though you never asked me to. I'll always hate you for the simple fact That I love you more than myself. More than I love anybody.

Anybody (199/?)

[vncommitted]

i don’t even know what i’m still doing here. what do these words even do anyway? who do they help? what’s the point of even bothering? i’m not even writing properly anymore, i’m just carelessly throwing out words even though i promised myself that wouldn’t ever be the type of writer i was. i feel like i’ve lost my love for this but i don’t know where else to put all these feelings i have. i’m just wasting my time at this point.

[vncommitted]

I've come to realize that men,  All men, Even the ones you love And the ones that love you, Will rip you open To make a home between your ribs. They will move your organs, Your breathing lungs and your beating heart, To make their space more comfortable, And that's why your chest Feels so heavy when you're in love.

Intruders (198/?)