takietsz sa mata

 

wala namang nakakatawa sa mga ikinuwento mo... bakit ka natatawa?

 

"i watched her silently as she lit up a cigarette and put it in her full but pale lips." nag papakamatay ung babae

 

her head was buried under my chain and passionately

-> chin..

 

in the grass, lied there he cigarette.

-> her..

 

at least those were the thigs that were known about her...

-> things

 

nice

 

schizophrenia demons live in my head.


she was pretty and smart.
at least those were the thigs that were known about her...
a beautiful facade that dissemble that dark secret she divulged to me one time she asked me to watch the sunset with her.

i watched her silently as she lit up a cigarette and put it in her full but pale lips.
nobody knwos that she smokes except me, her boyfriend.
i dont smoke, but im getting used being a second hand smoker just by being physically close to her.
we were sitting under the shade of a huge acacia tree beside a glistening fishpond.
as the minutes passed by, the water turned into a crimson as if it was a bowl of blood.
the sun was saying goodbye and tints of red, orange and pink were spilled crazily in the firmament like an artwork of an anspiring Van Gogh...

"it looks as if there is a massacre in the heaven.
the angels fought with each other with their swords- they cut-open each others stomach and blood splurges out from them and absorbed by the clouds."
she said, offering a gory explanation on the phenomenon of the sunset.
anyway, im used to her morbidity...
the way she look and interpret things in eerie sense.

after she spoke, she fixed her eyes at the bloody scene..
her eyes have this certain sparkle seen only in a curious child.
but that moment, that sparkle blurred suddenly, i felt her tiny and bony hand touching mine.
in the grass, lied there he cigarette.
she didnt finish smoking it.
i looked at her.
she got something in her mind...
her sudden silence told me so.

"i want to die."
she said, casually. coolly.
indifference betrayed the sense of her words.
as if dying in a trial and error thing.
as if dying is not irrevocable.
as if choosing to die is like choosing lipstick in an avon catalogue...
as if dying... wont hurt me.

"last night, i fought the urge to thump my wriston a crooked wire- so i looked for a blade instead and made cuts on my right leg." she said without emotion,
like she was reporting the contribution of carbon dioxide to ozone depletion.

then she lifted an inch of her skirt for me to catch a glimpse of her scathed pearly skin...

i felt a lump on my throat.
my heart throbbed frantically.
my jaws tightened.
i want to raise my hand and slap her face!
shout curses at her!
shake her aggressively...
knock her down on the grasses...
then whisper on her ears that i badly love her...
then hug her...
kiss her.
and be with her forever...
but im such a coward.
i remained still as a hibernating rodent.
i became paralyzed while she played my hardly movable fingers.

"a shadow visits me every night..." she continued,
her face half covered with her hair,
"...it frightened me so much. i thought those were nightmares... i want to die."

the milk that was spilled was bitter.
after her more elaborations, which i insisted her to do,
we mutually cried...
-i silently; she heartbreakingly.
somewhere in my mind there was a painful prick of culpability.
but, hell!
if only i can keep her safe inside my pocket all the time.

she can no longer stand it, the animosity and disgust that she have been repressing were psychologically materialized in her core that she needed to get rid of it.
she injures herself whenever she couldnt handle them.

finally, when all was dark and cold, she put herself in the shelter of my arms in a fetus-like stance.
her head was buried under my chain and passionately, i sniffed her candy-scent hair with globules of my tears remained attached on some of her hair strands.

everything that time was a wicked deja vu, for i remembered the day my little sister came to me crying, saying that our father have done weird things on her.