Hunted by a living person’s soul.
Patuloy akong hinahabol ng ating nakaraan.
It’s strange, isn’t it? How someone can leave but never really be gone.
How can you be accused of killing someone who’s already dead? You keep on haunting me but not as a ghost, but as a memory too stubborn to fade.
Hanggang kailan kita ipagtitirik ng kandila?
How do you mourn someone who’s still breathing, laughing, living, and just without you? It’s a cruel kind of grief, one that doesn’t ask for permission. The one that lingers like a wound that never really heals.
A question that never got to see it’s answer, a scar who refuses to live, not because it can’t, but because I still hold on from where it came from.
You didn’t die, but it feels like you did. The only difference is — the world didn’t stop for you. There was no funeral, no condolences, no flowers wilting beside your memory. Just me, left with pieces of you scattered in places you’ll never return to.
And it’s pathetic of how I continue to choose the same spot to sit on in the place our soul used to meet.
I stare at the sunset as my mind recall your words “You deserve to be happy, and I deserve to be free.”
I stare at the view in front of me as It slowly hits me, no matter how beautiful things were, it can never change the fact, that someday, it will come to an end.
Hindi lahat ng pagpaparaya ay malaya,
Gaya ng pagsilang ng araw mula sa silangan,
Ang gandang kaaya-ayang hinubog nito sa kalangitan,
Ay s’yang pagtanggap sa nalalapit na hangganan.
Sa wakas, natutunan ko nang bitawan — dahil ang pag-ibig mo’y isa nang libingang nilisan.
