Flashback Friday: The Window

Poetry, September 2005 — Another sad poem. <sarcasm>Surprise, surprise.</sarcasm> The inspiration for this was a photo I took back in highschool as you can see after the poem. She was looking out the window (hence the title) and my mind started turning at the thought of a woman desperately waiting for her lover. Seriously, I don't really know how I came up with this things. I guess it was my state of mind back then. But I digress. On with my sad poetry!

The Window
I look out upon my window
Hoping to see you in the horizon
But alas I see nothing
Neither form nor shadow

Day by day I wait here
The same old place
The everlasting emptiness
I wait until hope turns to fear

I sit by my window
Wondering when you'll come back
I'm running out of faith
But still I wait fro tomorrow

Now I realize that it's too late
The past is the past
So I'll do the right thing and say goodbye
I'll close my window and give into fate

Jessamine Guevarra, 2006, 3rd HS Sec. Newton,  DLA.

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Flashback Friday: The Last Time

Poetry, 2005 — I am seriously risking ridicule for all my 2005 poetry. I honestly cannot remember any though process from when I wrote these poems. I was young and was ridiculously inclined to write about my teenage heartbreak. This was me at fifteen emulating a "strong independent woman who will not stand to be hurt any-moh" *snaps fingers in Z-formation.*

The Last Time

You’ve taken from me long enough

I’ve never felt this way before
I don’t know if this gives you laughs
But you can’t hurt me anymore

This is the last time I’ll listen to you
And from now own I’ll now what to do
For now I’ve learned what it’s like
To be hurt and hurt endlessly

I may not make sense
I may be confused
But one thing’s for sure
This is the last time I’ll be hurt by you

This has been a Friday post brought to you by The Purple Madhouse

Flashback Friday: A Broken Heart's Thoughts

Poetry, 2005 — The cheesiest and most emo Flashback Friday yet. I'm actually quiet embarrased to post this. 2005, man. It was pungent with teenage angst. Don't judge me, please. I was young and I needed to express myself. 

A Broken Heart's Thoughts

Love has gone away again

And you know your heart would never mend

You built up a wall around yourself

And swore never to be stuck in another love fest

You walk the world with no heart

Keeping yourself and love apart

You speak of no love and no care

But you know you’d love again if you dare

You’ve learned once how hurtful it could be

To love and love regretfully

But if all you’d get is a broken heart

Then you’d rather be alone than play the part

Flashback Friday: The One I Want

Prose, 2005 — Another short story for this Friday post. A little trivia: back in 2005, I used the nom de plume First Class Fool. I heard it in a Joss Stone song and I thought it appropriate for my teenage self, being as I was unwittingly foolish at the time with the subject of love. Aren't we all though? Like the previous prose post, this one starts a bit sad but picks up towards a happier ending. I think this was me projecting my want of a happy ending for myself in my writing. 

The One I Want

She hurriedly ran towards their meeting place – that grove in the park where they would always meet back when they were getting acquainted with each other. She ran faster now, knowing that he wouldn’t wait for long. She nearly tripped as she came to a stop by the trees. He was standing with his back facing her. He was looking up the night sky, up to the moon. She didn’t know how to approach him. She didn’t even know if he wanted to talk to her. But she had to do it. She had to talk to him and let him know how she truly feels.

“Richard?”

He turned then, and her heart nearly broke at the sight of him. His blue eyes looked so sad – like he’d lost somebody… like he’d lost her. “Marie?” He sounded incredulous. It was as if he could not believe she was there. He opened his arms wide then and she came rushing into him. They embraced tightly, sinking into one another.

They withdrew from one another, and like before they looked up the night sky and up the moon. There was a peaceful silence then, and for a moment they were content. They were standing with him behind her, still embracing.

He spoke then, “How did it go?”

She stiffened a little, hesitating whether she was going to tell him what had happened. She had gone to a party where her sister and her fiancé, Brian, were the celebrants. She had decided to go to see, if there was still something left in her heart for Brian, to whom she was once in love with, but once Brian saw her sister, Elizabeth, he had clearly fallen love at first sight with her. So Marie stood in the sidelines watching their love grow and feeling so thorn apart about it. Until she met Richard.

Since she met him she smiled more often than not. She laughed. She learned how to have fun again. She was happy. But still there was a shadow of doubt lingering in the back of her mind and in her heart. So she went to the party just to see, and now she was here, with him, ready to take the first step in moving on.

“How did it go?” He repeated.

She was still quiet. He started to let go of her. “Look, if you don’t want to talk about it…”

She turned to him. “I do want to talk about it! It’s just that I –”

“You what?” There was a hurt look in his eyes and she knew she could not deny him any longer.

She placed her hands on his cheeks and lowered his face so she could kiss him softly on his lips. She hugged him tightly and proceeded to tell him what exactly happened.

“I saw them together.” She began. “They were happy and all I could think about was –”
“How you should have been the one with him instead of her?” he supplied spitefully.

“No!” She exclaimed. “That’s not it, Richard.”

“Then what?” He said, his tone rising. “I mean when we first met all you could talk about was Brian and your whole heart ache!”

“No…” She said, placing a hand on his cheek. “I saw them together and all I could think about was you and how happy you make me. All that I’ve felt for Brian before – they are all gone, and all that’s left in my heart is you. I don’t want Brian… I want you.”

He kissed her then. Holding her tight as if he was afraid she would disappear at any moment. “I’m glad…” He whispered. “That you chose me.”

“I love you.” She said. “It wasn’t that hard to figure out.”

“I love you too.” He whispered back.. “Be with me?”

“Forever…” She whispered.

This has been a Friday post brought to you by The Purple Madhouse.

Flashback Fridays: A Song with No Title

Songwriting, 2005 — Aside from writing poems and short stories of melancholic kind, back in '05 I also dabbled into song writing. This is just one of the songs I made at the time. I mostly partnered with a musician friend of mine to create music for the words I write. But I think I never got around to getting some music on this. 

A Song with No Title

Going through my head
Are the words we left unsaid
I know we left things badly
And now it ended sadly

But I know that we can make things right
If you’d give me just one night
If you’d just trust me again
Then our broken hearts could mend

If you could learn
To believe in me again
I promise I will stay
Forever in your arms
Forever in your arms

I can see it in your eyes
You’re afraid I’m telling lies
I’ve missed you so much
I can’t bear that we are apart

All I want is be with right now
I just don’t know how
If this goes on
I might not be able to hold on

If you could learn
To believe in me again
I promise I will stay
Forever in your arms
Forever in your arms

I know we can make it
Our love will grow stronger
But you have to feel the same way
Don’t leave me hangin’

This has been a Friday post brought to you by The Purple Madhouse.

Flashback Friday: Come Back

Prose, 2005 — This one was written when I was 15 as well. In fact, expect that all posts from 2005 were written by 15-year-old me. 15 was a trying age for me, what with my love-sickness and all that pining for romance. Naturally, most of what I've written at that time was themed as such. 

This story is about love found again. I can't quite recall what inspired this story. Perhaps I was high on romance novels back then. As I expected, I did cringe when I read this again after seven years of it laying dormant in the archives, but not as much as I did with my poetry from the last Flashback Friday post. So now, with further ado...

Come Back

 

She watched wearily as he approached her, her eyes noting every single ounce of perecftion. She never thoguht he'd come back; never thought she'd see him again. But there he was, like a ghostly apparition of some nightmare-dream.

He stopped a mere few feet from her, near enough to hold her captive should she choose to turn away.

She looked into his eyes, and she nearly drowned into those green depths. Her father once said that the eyes were windows to one's soul and to one's heart, but looking into his eyes, she saw nothing. No love. No hate. No happiness nor sadness, just cold emptiness. 

She didn't know what to do. Common sense told her to turn the opposite way and run like the dogs of hell were after her, but what she wanted to do was to wrap her arms around him, hold him close to her, and never let him go.

Tears were starting to fall now. they shown brightly against her rosy cheeks. A tentative hand rested against them to wipe the tears away and she placed her own hand over his rough and calloused one.

Finally she saw emotion in those green eyes. There was sadness and remorse, but most of all there was regret.

She didn't know how it had happened — if she made the first move or he did — but they were in each others arms. Wrapped in an embrace so tight, she thought she would sink into him and she wanted to.

He whisphered words in hear ear. His regret in leaving her. the sadness that followed him everywhere. The contentment and satisfaction he could not find with any other woman but only with her. And in return she told him of her own sadness and her own regrets.

He whispered his love to her and she to him. Finally they released each other, only to embrace once more in a never ending love.

The sun broke into the horizon. It shined its bright rays of light at them. It marked a new day. A new day for him. A new day for her. A new day for the both of them — together.

This has been a Friday post brought to you by The Purple Madhouse.

Flashback Friday: A Smile from Me

Poetry, August 2005 — I wrote this when I was fifteen and was the first post I made on my very first blog. I've been writing way before this poem, but this particular piece marked my foray into the world of blogging; I thought it would be apropos to begin with this for the first Flashback Friday post. 

Reading this again honestly makes me cringe because, first, I think it's quite cheesy, and second, it made me realize how emotional I was back in high school. But for the sake of— well, I don't really know yet. I'll have to get back to you on that. Basically, I'm just letting this loose on the internet once again; with a bit of embarrassment, mind you.

A Smile From Me
 
You asked me if she liked you
If she liked you the way you do her
You say you’re so in love in her
But all you got was a smile from me

You give her gifts and roses
You shower he with endearments and praises
You asked me if you were doing the right thing
But all you got was a smile from me

You’re together now
As happy as the two of you can be
You asked me if I was happy for you
But all you got was a smile from me

Seeing her with you tears my soul apart
It breaks my heart
I wish I could be the one with you
But all I’m going to give
And all you are going to get is
A smile from me

This has been a Friday post brought to you by The Purple Madhouse.