hand on heart

i could have sworn i heard your voice today
and for a moment, i thought you came back
but it was all wishful thinking
looks like i still have a lot to unpack

for no one ever said breakups are easy
they leave broken hearts in their wake
even letting go is overrated
there’s still no balm to this ache

so i find myself still missing you
late into the night when i should be asleep
thinking of you and where you are now
wishing i never let you in so deep

blue

it’s been eleven days since you left
and i think i’m doing okay
the words have finally started to flow
they come more and more each day

but sometimes i see something
that inevitably reminds me of you
followed by that familiar tug inside my chest
before i tell myself not to feel so blue

for you are where you need to be right now
unencumbered and free
you’ve moved on and one day, I will, too,
even if sometimes it’s not that easy

new moon

i drew the new moon card today
it told me what i already knew
that there are things i now need to undertake
even if it means letting go of you

so you can go your own way
and discover everything that awaits you
new lessons and new loves along this new path
while still keeping dear everything you hold true

so don’t look back. just keep going
for in the end, I’ll be okay
I’m just so proud of everything you’ve accomplished
it’s a new moon, a new beginning… a new day.

worthy

i wasn’t ready for your goodbye
even though i had a feeling you were leaving
but you left me with something i can never repay
you reminded me to never stop believing

that i am beautiful
that i am worthy
that i have so much to give
as i continue on this journey

to love myself again
and accept everything that I am
the wrinkles, the curves, even the scars
for nothing about me is a sham

and although i’m not ready to say goodbye
it’s time for me to let you go
let you live the life you’ve always wanted
you deserve more than you’ll ever know

for you, too, are beautiful,
you, too, are kind
you are worthy
and i think we’ll be just fine.

halfway across the world

I wish I knew what to do,
how to help you in any way
But I’m helpless from where I sit
halfway across the world

I’m sorry for being callus, for saying
maybe you could do this or that
for that wasn’t what you needed to hear from me
halfway across the world

A thousand friends on Facebook, you say
and not one of them could lend a helping hand
I wish I could do more than just listen to you cry
halfway across the world.

Friendships That Matter

Screen Shot 2014-09-23 at 9.53.29 AM

If you can sum up in one question
whether I can be a friend to you or not
Then you’re not the friend I need
I’ll just keep the friends I’ve already got

For friendships take precious time,
like a seedling planted in the ground.
It needs not just one thing
no matter how copious the amount

There’s good rich soil to grow in
and clean air that it needs to breathe
There’s water it must have for its roots
and sunlight to nourish its first leaf

But to sum it all up in one question is impossible –
friends need so much more than just that.
For friendships take time and so much more,
friendships like the ones that matter need love

Daily Prompt

Frame of Mind: Grateful

If you could paint your current mood onto a canvas, what would that painting look like? What would it depict?

20140709-091357-33237350.jpgMy friend has been going through a tough time lately and I find myself thinking of her many times throughout the day. I wonder if she’s comfortable.  I wonder if she’s in pain, or if she’s getting a few breaks from all the health challenges she’s been going through.

I also wonder if she’s scared, the way I am scared of losing a friend.

I discovered her by being a fan of the actor who became, for a time, my muse, and inspired me to return to writing again.  My friend writes, too, and this morning, I saw that she published a new story on Wattpad, where my stories can also be found.  She writes Lady Oakenshield stories that make me smile, especially since I write sad things 90% of the time.  However, I’ve yet to read her story this morning – only because I wanted to draw her a picture first, and send it to her.

Fortunately, today’s Daily Prompt helped seal the deal in that department, so this is how I feel right now.  A bit melancholic, a bit relieved.  Very grateful.  And though you don’t see it in the picture that I drew of her (I am not a blonde – though I remember that she is. Hmm…now I sure hope so!), my heart was doing the happy dance the entire time I drew it.

I am happy to see that she is getting better, getting stronger each day.  I hope to see her in person one day, and laugh and cackle like the crazy women that we are, at inside jokes and everything else.

She’s a tough woman, this amazing friend of mine, just like the Arkenstone she named herself after – and I’m so happy to call her my friend.

Daily Prompt

Morning Walk

It’s a beautiful spring day
and outside, the birds are singing
The winds blow the clouds across the sky
in the air, the smell of rain now fading.
I feel the pain and uncertainty in your words,
even as the bright white sun shines above
I wish I could have enclosed you in a warm embrace just then,
infused that space between us with love
But we walked on, keeping up with the pace
of our beating hearts, and our hope-filled dreams
It’s a beautiful spring day outside, I know,
but your heart is full of worry. It’s ripping at the seams.

Daily Prompt: Something So Strong

Tell us the origin story of your best friend. How did you become friends? What is it that keeps your friendship rockin’ after all these years?

molly1

I don’t remember when I first met Molly but it must have been during primary school, or at the latest, freshman year in high school. We must have hit it off right away because I mostly remember having her come over our house during the weekends and after school she and I would walk home together.  She lived at least another jeepney ride to her home, but she’d walk me all the way to my street where I’d see her off and walk on home.

She was my “chaperone” when I went on my first date with a Japanese trapeze performer during a school day (approved by my mom to skip school with a note that said Molly and I were both sick and had to stay home from school – or whatever reason it was my mom came up with), and when I started dating for real, she was there through the excitement of the first “real” kiss and the heartbreak that followed (he only dated me because he was trying to get a gig as a model and my brother was the photographer).

When she got into her first real catfight with one of our mutual friends, I stayed by her side through the gory details and beyond, never caring if I’d be ostracized too.  Once, we decided to bake brownies in my mother’s never-used oven (it was really just for show, since we had the “dirty” kitchen where everything was cooked and prepared), she opened the oven half-way and said, “oh, the little fire in the oven went out,” and proceeded to light it with a match.

I remember the bright flash of light and the huge bang that followed and we’re both grateful that other than singed eyebrows and all the hair on her arms gone, she was fine, though we laughed so hard that we both cried and peed our pants.  Looking back now, I think we were both in shock though.

When she met a new group of friends to hang out with (after the catfight), she took me along with her to a beach party only to realize that evening that I had eaten “brownies” someone had brought and I was high as a kite.  She had to face my mother at 3 am with some lame story that the car broke down, all the time trying her best to hold me up.  From then on, she partied while I remained grounded for what seemed like the rest of my teen-age years.

As we grew older, we drifted apart – me, with my own dramas and Molly with her can-do-nothing-can-stop-me attitude.  It would take us almost five to eight years to see each other again, and when we did, I realized how much she had remained the same inside (wild, level-headed survivor Molly) though on the outside, she loved to shock people with her fuck-you attitude.  I had changed, however, grown up from the spoiled little rich girl that I was to someone who had to learn on my own that there were more important things than sitting and writing out my characters’ fictional lives, and that life can be so tough that if it weren’t for the fact that I was too much of a coward to do it myself, I’d have been dead a long time ago.  During that stay, she told me something that I had forgotten – and that reminded me so much about why she is as successful as she is today.

“Whenever I was  hungry, I always knew where to go.  You always had food at your house.”

And she was always at our house.

When I told her that I had to have a church wedding (per my in-laws) even though she had already been my maid of honor during my Vegas wedding – and she knew how much I loathed anything big and ritualistic as a church wedding – she cheerily announced that she would love to be my “matron of horror” any day.  She, along with my brothers, were what kept me sane through it all.

I don’t see much of Molly these days though I wish I did.  We both live in different states, and we both have such different lives.  When she comes down, I end up too busy with kiddie stuff.  I could try harder to get together with her, although I think most of all, I’m afraid of her honesty.  Honesty that happens only among friends.

My husband once called her Hurricane Molly, because sheltered as  he was, he’d never met a woman like Molly before.  But one day, when he got too drunk to know what he was saying, he let it slip that he was jealous of my friends, most of all, Molly, though there was anger there, too.

“That woman said she’d kill me if I hurt you,” he said.

And I found myself smiling.  That’s the Molly I know.  That’s the Molly I love.  That’s the Molly I call my best friend.

Daily Prompt