Some of Us

So it’s almost 4 A.M. and there have been too many emotions to process. I just finished writing this one. I don’t normally post first drafts but I think I can make an exception. And this was a product of hyperactive hormonal activity. Teenager pa naman ako, so may excuse. Haha. Eto na, be sad with me.

Some of us are luckier, when it comes to love

Some of us are privileged enough to look into someone else’s eyes
And see a reflection of ourselves in irises that used to be empty

Some of us are lucky enough to stand side by side with a partner in crime
To look into horizons of evil and know
That there is nothing to fear at all, because here you are the strongest
You are holding someone else’s hand in yours,
Fingers not letting go
Here, you are the strongest

Some of us are lucky enough
To not be cold on summer nights
Lucky enough to feel warmth just behind our ribcages, slightly to the left
Lucky enough to keep someone else’s blood running and pumping and jumping for joy
Lucky enough to feel someone building a habitat inside of you
Making walls and doors and windows out of your old broken pieces
The table has been set and the fireplace is running
And you just know, you just know how lucky you are

Some of us are lucky
Some of us are not

Some of us look at drawers full of stuff that have been decaying ever since the front door was slammed shut
There are letters to throw and pictures to burn, for some of us

Some of us stay up all night punching numbers into calculators
Trying to sum up whatever is left of the feeling we used to call love
Trying to summon leftover butterflies
Just trying

Some of us have broken ribs and bruises on our skins and some of us have names tattooed all over
Names that surfaced when good times faded into the background
Names that started to exist when the spark in their eyes stopped existing

Some of us have fallen prey
To words that were not meant
To promises made but were not met
To hugs that had to be kept secret
Some of us had to be kept secret

And, some of us
Have been staring into clocks
Waiting for the phone call
Waiting for the postcard
Tapping feet against hardwood floors

Some of us are lucky enough to have someone to dance with on hardwood floors

Some of us look up the wall clock, again and again
Wondering if the next gamble is worth it
Wondering if they would be lucky enough
To stop being not enough.

2 thoughts on “Some of Us

  1. Pingback: A girl like me | Hands UP

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