our

I withhold my Love
wrap the string tightly
around my finger
your throat
twist the silence
between us into
tangled tangents
bursting from my frustration to your turned back

we lay these regrets
next to the fuck-its we stomp with our fists
into the dust that becomes us
becomes the distance
between our dreams and our damage
our rage and our Love
our constant tug of war

I am remembering your blue hair
pierced eyebrows
and that “I’m innocent” face
as you pointed your eyeballs toward the sky
I never believed you by the way

hood over your head
hands stuffed into the pocket
of your gray hoody
you always had something to say

I remember staying up
till 4 in the morning with you
talking in the stairwell of that church in NYC
my first time there, first protest and first time getting arrested
we shared many trips, protests, meetings, conversations, meals, and arguments
you were a wealth of knowledge and experience

we pushed and pulled
struggled together
grew and
all taught each other lessons we will never be able to name

development

one thing I can say is that
struggle and Love/Friendship
go hand in hand

tonight I told her that I was seeing my life with a clarity that I’ve never had before. T and I get to the nut in less than two minutes, our mouths like faucets pour Love and Friendship into the space between our faces
facing each other after years
history we keep
stitched into our lips
our hair
the silence we spill
into reflections, ponderings and hope
bursts of laughter
the flood of memories
the raw bone honesty
Honestly
telling, re-telling
listening, learning
hearing, giving
Loving
the giggles will go on
gracias

tonight I told her that I was seeing my life with a clarity that I’ve never had before. T and I get to the nut in less than two minutes, our mouths like faucets pour Love and Friendship into the space between our faces
facing each other after years
history we keep
stitched into our lips
our hair
the silence we spill
into reflections, ponderings and hope
bursts of laughter
the flood of memories
the raw bone honesty
Honestly
telling, re-telling
listening, learning
hearing, giving
Loving
the giggles will go on
gracias

tonight I told her that I was seeing my life with a clarity that I’ve never had before. T and I get to the nut in less than two minutes, our mouths like faucets pour Love and Friendship into the space between our faces
facing each other after years
history we keep
stitched into our lips
our hair
the silence we spill
into reflections, ponderings and hope
bursts of laughter
the flood of memories
the raw bone honesty
Honestly
telling, re-telling
listening, learning
hearing, giving
Loving
the giggles will go on
gracias

character

the girl walked quickly down the stairs
she wanted to hide herself
and blend in with the walls

to jump out of the open window to her left
without the breaking beneath

telescope herself into the sky
far from him & skin & bones & memory
into the stars that lit her heart on fire
speeding at the pace of sound
silence sounds like the screams she never spoke

melody, harmony, bass & rhythm
that is what she needed
chased and choked to find the beat
so she could beat the music out of herself
to cover the sounds of sin and memory

the ones who still breathe
still carry their pain in their pockets as they walk down the street
carry their triggers at their finger tips
a scent, a coin, a word
skin, folds, the confusion wraps around fingers tongue clenched fists
fits of anger
falling to the floor
tears, I can’t see anymore
I don’t ever want to get up from this floor

He
likes to sniff her
breathe in deeply
her scent, her neck, her heart

He
sits quietly
while she storms

He
listens to her tears

He
steadfast
stands
picks up her form
off the floor
his arms cradling her rage
rests her on the tips
of his eyelashes
sings the screaming to a stop

gently folds her grief
with his fingers
into her hair
hiding it from her
as she watches his dance
of strength, stillness and solace
he paints light
across her nose

they breathe it in

she is hurt
she has been betrayed
she feels like a lie
she buries secrets in her smiles

but I’m 30
and this little girl
wriggles around inside me
fighting for air, for space
for some comfort
but I’m ready to move on
impatient

now my anger is palpable
sometimes I feel I’m folding under its weight
and I throw it at her
thrust piles of it in her direction screaming

GET UP!
MOVE!
LET’S GO!

We have no time for this
It is fucking over
Let’s move!

She whines. Cries.

I leave

Isa
I never had you in the first place

Dalawa
actually this is Isa
she never had you in the first place
or maybe it was
you didn’t have her
well, you did, you birthed her
Yyou didn’t keep her

Tatlo
tatlo, yes the three of us
tatlo is one
we feel like one sometimes cuz I get so lost in us
but we are three
you the Lola
she my Mommy/Nanny
and me, Lost
and at some point (soon now) there won’t be tatlo.
it will just be Mommy and me

Apat
you and your husband
Gramma and Grampa

Lima
Nicolas
Teresa
Fred
Louise
Rosie

Anim
six years from now, you probably won’t be here

Pito
Seven years ago I went to you. Travelled across the globe for the first time and I went to you. To your house. Your rice field. The house you grew up in. I met your Ate. Your big sister, Lola Sabing. You gave me the Philippines. You breathed her air and you showed me how. Showed me how you live in your skin. On (y)our land. In (y)our culture.

Walo
sounds like wallow
eight is infinity
You are infinite

person
my mother’s mother
my mother’s biological mother
my mommy’s other mommy
my mommy’s 2nd mommy

Gramma Teresa
became Gramma
became Lola
“Lola Ising” they called her

place
The Philippines, the PI
Cupang (Pa)Laod
La Union
Santo Tomas
Luzon

Place
there
here
across the ocean
a very long plane ride
time travel
islands
thousands of them
7,107 islands
Chicago
California
Michigan?
Sparrow Hospital
interment:
Memory Gardens
Arlington Heights, IL
in here
in the heavens
In Heaven
with Lolo Nic
and your brother Pedro
finally
and here in my heart and the holes of my bones

this afternoon
after writing a letter to my friends in the Warrior Writers world

I interviewed them
I sat on the other side of the table
asking questions
digging

“internship program”

he said “…you’re hiring the person, not the skills…”

an enabler
we help
we build
you asked questions
you were unsure
not convinced
saw me
didn’t see me
needed to stay back
up close who knows
what will happen

what will happen
who knew I’d know you
saved changed transformed loved my life
where would I be without you
sometimes I think I’ve forgotten that
your voice
on this day
and I missed you
but I guess you were with me
as you always are
always are
Katrina in my pocket
Dubai Philly
snow sun
heat hot
cold colder
miss
missin you
I miss miss miss you
I missed your call but here I speak to you speak to you
I forget to tell the stories of my life
I have been forgetting to tell the stories of my life
my life
my life
my life
the stories
of our lives
what are the stories of your life
the stories of your life
I miss the stories of your life
tell me
tell me
the stories of your life

I like stories
I love you
love
you

(so fucking much)