If I bury my poetry
underneath Manila skies...

I used to find
your eerie smell on the staircases...

When I was ten,
I wrote a poem about Daisies...

This is a lonely hallway,
but I have walked on this...

Your footsteps are never meant
to decorate this lonely alleyway...

I'm afraid
that you just might...

Lately,
I can't...

Like amber mem'ries,
snow makes dainty Sarcodes spring...

Don't hate me,
my poetry...

On what day shall I weep?
I broke my collar bone...

This ornate road
I used to pass by...

Those orange streetlights
that are illuminating the cars that are parked...