Torn From the Pages of My Heart
13
And there I was leaning on a wall
of a rigid hospital building,
Watching and listening to the rustic music
in the flow of jeepneys and cars speeding by...
With my head like a bird whose tiny feet
were planted on a sloping rooftop.
The tapping sound from a toe
of my three-inch high heels
pronounced itself as my sole company...
as I counted the seconds, and then the minutes...
and then a little more than half of an hour.
The watch on my wrist was there to tell me more.
There was nothing else left in that cold,
foreign place of: hissing curses
from a boy selling a silver necklace;
feigned indifference from a newly shaved
gelled-haired bystander on new rubber shoes
and freshly ironed shirt and jeans that smell
so much of youth; and the shooting gaze wrapped
with hollow, sounding warnings from a security
guard five feet away.
There were several others... but that time
it seemed, my world in soft pink dress was
summarized... contained only these three people
and the harsh surroundings. I did nothing wrong...
but to wait... for something that never came.
Granted, I'd let me flown off to a space of this
unpredictable paradigm where time stands still...
to that little space where I can wrap myself in
contentment with a voice as rough, as cold, as strong
as strands of silken steel. I'd ease myself out of this
physical plane and just drift freely into those arms
where I am... 13 once again.
If I let myself be... times like this make me
see so much just by looking inside... starting from
eternity. I'd try to grasp those evading pages of
heart and mind. Maybe I would see nothing. Now it's
nothing, just... something from the world of...
once upon a time.
It's all good you aren't anywhere in my line of existence.
It's good we wouldn't ever have our paths cross... ever.
Because the scene played in the first three stanzas
of this musing is the reality that tells me to be strong.
While the mere thought of you would make me quiver.
Shiver. Shimmer. Helpless... I would be 13 all over.
of a rigid hospital building,
Watching and listening to the rustic music
in the flow of jeepneys and cars speeding by...
With my head like a bird whose tiny feet
were planted on a sloping rooftop.
The tapping sound from a toe
of my three-inch high heels
pronounced itself as my sole company...
as I counted the seconds, and then the minutes...
and then a little more than half of an hour.
The watch on my wrist was there to tell me more.
There was nothing else left in that cold,
foreign place of: hissing curses
from a boy selling a silver necklace;
feigned indifference from a newly shaved
gelled-haired bystander on new rubber shoes
and freshly ironed shirt and jeans that smell
so much of youth; and the shooting gaze wrapped
with hollow, sounding warnings from a security
guard five feet away.
There were several others... but that time
it seemed, my world in soft pink dress was
summarized... contained only these three people
and the harsh surroundings. I did nothing wrong...
but to wait... for something that never came.
Granted, I'd let me flown off to a space of this
unpredictable paradigm where time stands still...
to that little space where I can wrap myself in
contentment with a voice as rough, as cold, as strong
as strands of silken steel. I'd ease myself out of this
physical plane and just drift freely into those arms
where I am... 13 once again.
If I let myself be... times like this make me
see so much just by looking inside... starting from
eternity. I'd try to grasp those evading pages of
heart and mind. Maybe I would see nothing. Now it's
nothing, just... something from the world of...
once upon a time.
It's all good you aren't anywhere in my line of existence.
It's good we wouldn't ever have our paths cross... ever.
Because the scene played in the first three stanzas
of this musing is the reality that tells me to be strong.
While the mere thought of you would make me quiver.
Shiver. Shimmer. Helpless... I would be 13 all over.
