familiar stranger.

Dearest,

Without your knowing, it took me three

months before I tried to send a message
to you— a green heart emoji. If this
reaches you, please know that you are
not unseen.
It’s pretty cool how someone can just
appear into your life all of a sudden
and become important to you within such
a small amount of time. I think, that’s
what makes life more interesting
though.

I have so many ways of telling you how

amazing you are. Probably because
that’s the only thing I am sure of for
months now. You may never understand
this, but I want to know the person
behind the liveliness of your smile,
the fairness of your skin, and the
beauty of your curls whenever you have
a quick glance.
I knew that you are out of reach, and
nothing seems close to us. I had seen
distance, walls and conflict of time
sat in between our lives, but I found
myself wanting to trace your existence
through my excitement. Honestly, it has
gotten me to the strangest part of
myself. This is unusual.
I had seen the lack of reciprocation
from our situation as simply a
difficult invitation into a deeper form
of strange. You can barely speak my
language, and so am I to yours.

The walls are high. Small talks cannot

take them down. They can hardly
entertain me.
I admit to not have watched that fifty-
eight second clip, but that day after
the country’s independence
commemoration was more than enough to
make me remember you.

I also admit not to have introduced you

to my pals, but I was just so proud to
let them hear your singing.

Oni, you deserve to be praised. You are

made of love, so how can I convince
myself that you are not worthy of it?
I could write about your sweet familiar
voice on Sunday masses and wedding
marches, your live performances on
night gigs; a failed chord change on
your "Favorite Crime" cover, and a
ruined "All Too Well" video. I could
write about your grief that took you
through emotions of love when you lost
your dog. I could write about how I
unsent my message to you on the 1st day
of August because I had no reason to
talk to you aside from wishing you all
the best for your birthday.
I could write endless poetry about why
I adore you, and none of these come
close to beautiful, in whatever order
they may come if they are not about
you.

For I see you in your wholeness

And in your wholeness,
My heart understands.
All I want is to know you more

But as I said, I will be patient.

Persevering. Regardless how much time
it would take for us to finally meet.

Despite the distance, anonymity, and

gaps,

the coffee shop is waiting for us.

I am praying for you.
I am taking this opportunity to ask the
subject of my writings if she could
join us one day as my Thomasian
bandmates and I record and release our
album on Spotify. We want to work with
you in the OPM industry, soon.

By the way, I was inspired by Taylor's

literature when I wrote my songs-
dedicated to a Swiftie.

Few verses may evince everything.

 Bookmark
Your words are too foreign for me to understand
I grabbed you from the bookshelves
And placed you in my hands
Teach me something new
Share your dreams with me
Talk about your universe
Take me to a mental trip

I want to know you, explore you

Dwell in your beautiful story
Your life is more than words
Your soul isn’t just a plain logic
So I’ll place a bookmark to where I stopped
And I promise that—

I’ll take you home

 Signs
The night creates some shadows yet it fails
To darken seven billion distant stars
That watch over your worth
They always see your worth

Waiting at the turnings of a perfect time

To unhide the different worlds behind
Unspoken words and signs

 Illusion
I bought a sweater the other day,
the same color as your eyes
I started listening to your favorite bamd,
wondering how the music made you feel.

I started reading books

with characters who reminded me of you.
When I see the lights of the crowded city,
I wished you were there too

I am seeing you in everything I do.

 Two Parts of a Whole

I love listening to hopes and dreams
and insecurities
Because when everything fades away
And our age begins to show,
all we will have left is to listen.

And because I love the sound of your voice

and the echoes of your soul,
I will listen to you for the rest of my life

Your thoughs mirror my thoughts, together,

two parts of a whole
 Church Lady

That girl belongs to the church

She sings with the angels
Her soul is a beautiful place to live in
I see heaven on the shape of her sculpture.

She's not a magic;

magic is only an illusion.

She is more than a miracle,

an unexpected blessing.

She may never understand this,

but I will never be too impressed
with the saints behind her
because she is far more beautiful to me
than any other creations.

But all that girl wanted to say as she pursues

her ideal is that

She belongs to the church, to our Father.

Copyread my works, Ma'am.