And So It Goes

by Billy Joel

In every heart there is a room
A sanctuary safe and strong
To heal the wounds from lovers past
Until a new one comes along.

I spoke to you in cautious tones
You answered me with no pretense
And still I feel I said too much
My silence is my self-defense.

And every time I’ve held a rose
It seems I only felt the thorns
And so it goes, and so it goes,
And so will you soon I suppose.

And if my silence made you leave
Then that would be my worse mistake
So I will share this room with you.
And you can have this heart to break.

And this is why my eyes are closed
It’s just as well for all I’ve seen.
And so it goes, and so it goes,
And you’re the only one who knows

So I will choose to be with you
That’s if the choice were mine to make
But you can make decisions too
And you can have this heart to break.

Embers of a Dying Love


Our hearts collided and ignited sparks.

Like matchsticks that set candles alight.

You made my heart alive.

You so filled it with delight.

And our hearts they set aflame.

And burned like fireworks in the night.

The fire burned red as blood,

From two hearts that once were cold.

They flared with the glorious sun,

with love as pure as gold.

But the wind blew a plague.

A plague that extinguishes a fire.

And so it washed away the flame

To embers of a dying desire.

And the embers that once were hearts

were nothing more than dust                                                               Image

Of a dying love.

An empty lust.

And so I held the embers that now were ash. 

Full of anguish, of blurred memory.

And with a tear, I whispered to the dust

‘Goodbye my love, dwell not in misery.’

And as the last teardrop fell, the last sigh was heard;

I blink into the horizon to greet the dawn.

And as the day scatters the light, it seals away the embers and the darkness of the night,

With it along, we shall go on.






Words. Yes, words.

They are uttered. They are written. They are said.

But how should I start? 

Not even a word escapes my lips. 

Not now. Not after all that you said. They got me. 


All I could do is stare…

At the words. Yes, those words.

Words that stab right to my chest, 

tracing down my gut, throbbing up my throat.

A silent whimper was all I could suffice.

But not even  the slightest sound was heard.

Not by you. Not by anyone. No, definitely not by you.

You who bore disgust over my words.

You who play deaf to my cries.

You who judge my words as curses.

You took my freedom with my words. You took my life with it.

And now you say, I took yours?

Tell me how. 

Did I take it when I loved you?

Or when I worried about you being without food?

Or not getting home safely during the night?

Or did I murder you with kindness and pure affection?

Please tell me how. Tell me now. 

For right now I am lost.

Lost for words.

Words to tell you how, 

How I really feel.

How I would go through sleepless nights just to be with you.

How I would eat my pride just to admit to you that I love you.

How I would sing you songs and write you poems.

How I would rush to catch you blush.

And how I would dance in your advance.

Tell me.

Tell me those words.

For not a word escapes my lips.

No, not a word escapes my lips.


Letters To No-One


It’s been three days since that night — the night you threw it all away. And for some sarcastic reasons, tomorrow is Valentine’s Day. And it’s so sad thinking that tomorrow we won’t be having our usual valentine’s dinner together, won’t be happily spending the night. I have to admit that you’re still constantly on my mind, that your smile and your memories still linger in my thoughts, that I’m still in love with you.


It’s Valentine’s Day and it’s the most ironic thing that we are not talking to each other today. I received, though, your message this morning, asking for a weekend meet-up for final closure. I don’t like the idea. Breaking up with you is actually still the last thing on my mind. But I hope that is not really what you want. I hope that we still have a choice., another option. Although I chose not to reply, I’m definitely planning on meeting you up tonight to surprise you with flowers and dinner. No matter what ruckus we’ve had, nothing changes the fact that there’s nothing better than spending this day with you. You know I can’t resist you.You know I love you.

This night just made history. A lot of tears were shed, and well-wishes said. I hope you liked the flowers, although they didn’t change your decision. It’s okay. I didn’t come to convince you to change whatever individual decision you have finalized. I just want to be with you. And if this shall be our last night, then so be it. I’ll just accept your decision and finalize things with you, no matter how painful that is. Not even our tears can make up for it. No, not when you thought you were written in the stars; not when you thought you were going to spend your lifetime together.

Nevertheless I am not angry. Even if after tonight I shall remember you, I will not be angry. How can I be? How can I be If thinking about you reminds me of the beautiful sunset, of the freshness of the morning, of this enchanting Manila Bay scenery,of the paradise beaches of Caramoan, thesweet chill of Baguio City, of the life and warmth of the Lipa night market, and of every happy memory we’ve had? We’re crying our tears goodnight. And even though we’re parting, there’s still so much love between us. How can this be? And so tonight is our last night. And when daylight breaks, it will all be over. We are on our own..forever. And painfully, I am still so much in love with you. For the last time, I LOVE YOU.


We have shared our last embrace, and said our last goodbye. We walked down together to the condo entrance. And thus with a tap on you shoulder, we parted ways. And by the bend from a distance, for that same instant, we both took our last glance.


In every waking moment, you are my first thought. Yesterday morning was no different from today. You are always in my mind. And even if I sought effective refuge from God’s words, still my love for you crushes me. Despite my silence and whatever else I do, at the back of my mind I am begging you, screaming from inside of me, for you not to let me go. I am still desperately in love with you.


I’ve been thinking about her all day. As I lie on this bed to sleep, I cannot resist the urge to call her. And so I reach for my phone to call her.After dialing her number and after getting two rings she answers the phone. But I don’t know what to do! I am even too shy to say a word! I hang up the phone. Then here comes this message from her, saying she’s not sure whether she can consume the break-up. She says she still loves much. I can’t help but smile. I am happy. I cannot hide that from myself. I don’t know what to say. I just need to  reply this back, “ME TOO.” I think I can sleep happily tonight.



By the Gilmore station, I wait for you.

And here I stand by the side railing, 


The pleasant summer breeze brushing through my hair.

To be fair, I like the comfort of this place.

It is clean, peaceful, quiet.

Only the faint note of the vehicle honks

can be heard from here,

and the occasional whirring of the train engines

as it approaches to alight wanderers.

Yes. Wanderers.

And for a wanderer, I wait here.

And this wind continues to mangle my hair,

making it unkempt and untidy.

It’s okay.

I like it this way.

I wonder if you’ll like it too.

As I also wonder if you’ll like the way

the afternoon sun bathes these hallways

and intricately arched ceilings.

As I wonder how many trains have to pass by 

before I finally see you again.

Four trains have passed.

Still no sign of you.

Maybe the fifth one will be lucky.

The fifth has passed. 

Oh well, maybe it’s the sixth.

I don’t care.

I will be waiting here

for as long as I can bear.

By this railing,

even with sun-kissed skin

and mangled hair.


4 : 23

4: 23

So this is how I spend this afternoon.

It’s 4 o’ clock and twenty-three.

When will I see thee?

All of these music are somewhat bittersweet.

Individually it could have been music.

Together, they’re a catastrophe.

Confusing me. Further confusing me.

This coffee-shop is well-lit,

well-lit for 4 o’clock and twenty-three.

And nothing here really comforts me,

well, aside from this satisfactory coffee

and the glimpse of a setting sun

peeking from the dark haze of gray clouds.

And still, I’m sitting here by the side of the glass windows

watching the movements outside, the scenery.

This scenery and tumultuous sounds.

Now it’s passed 4 o’ clock and twenty-three.

Seven minutes passed 4 o’clock and twenty-three.

And still, here I am waiting.

Waiting for I don’t know, maybe eternity?

Oh, when will I see thee?

For how much long will I see thee,

after 4 o’clock and twenty-three?

The Night I Touched the Sheets


Strangers for a night.

Strangers ever since.

Peculiar for a night.

Peculiar the first time we laid sight.

We were happy and eager and as planned,

We strolled the merry and inviting, dark alleyways.

Like siblings we trod along the path,

eyes flickering and vibrant.

We reached the place

And prepared the alcohol.

We told stories and got drunk.

And the rest was history.

For our lips touched.

and our skin burned.

And our kiss was virgin in a way.

And passion was heartfelt.

And your lips although different as I thought,

were not different at all.

We closed our eyes,

exhausted as we danced under luna.

I woke, and everything was in a blur.

I said I had to go, and thus we parted ways.

And since that day, I’ve been haunted.

Constantly thinking about you.

Asking myself, ‘What am I to you?’