Hindi ako ang taong hinahanap mo, at siguro, hindi rin ikaw ang taong akala ko noon na kailangan ko.

Oo, nagbago ako— at alam kong iyon ang hindi mo matanggap. Pero kailan ba naging kasalanan ang pagbabago? Bakit kailangang may masisi? Bakit kailangang isa sa atin ang may sala?

Ang "tayo" noon ay tila isang kwento na sinimulan natin nang may galak, ngunit natapos nang walang malinaw na wakas. At kahit gusto **** isipin na isa lamang itong kwento ng paglimot, alam **** hindi lang iyon ang nangyari.

Alam **** may mga sandali na kahit magkasama tayo, ang isip ko ay lumulutang, naghahanap ng ibang daan, ibang kapiling. At alam **** kahit anong sakit ang maramdaman mo ngayon, walang balikan, walang paliwanag na sapat para burahin ang katotohanang iyon.

Kung ang paglayo ko ang naging dahilan ng pagguho mo, hindi ko na iyon mababawi. Pero huwag **** isipin na ginawa ko ito upang sirain ka. Dahil hindi ko kailanman hinangad ang bumitaw sa bagay na minsan kong pinahalagahan.

Pero minsan, ang isang tao ay hindi talaga itinadhana upang manatili. At minsan, ang pagmamahal ay hindi sapat upang hindi hanapin ang iba.

Hindi kita pinagkaisahan, hindi kita ginamit, hindi kita iniwan nang walang dahilan. Nagbago ako, nagbago rin ang nararamdaman ko. At hindi kita ginawang laruan— pero hindi ko rin kayang ipilit ang isang bagay na nawala na.

Ikaw ang naglingon pabalik, habang ako naman, tuluyan nang lumakad palayo. Hindi dahil gusto kong makalimutan, kundi dahil alam kong wala nang dapat pang balikan.

Hindi ko na hihilingin na intindihin mo ako. Hindi ko na pipilitin ang sarili kong magpaliwanag pa sa iyo, dahil sa dulo, hindi naman kailangang lahat ng bagay ay may paliwanag.

Matagal ko nang alam ang nararamdaman mo, matagal ko nang alam ang hinanakit na hindi mo kayang bitawan. Pero kung ako ang nagpasyang lumayo, ikaw rin naman ang matagal nang hindi nagawang manatili.

Kung ang huli nating usapan ay isang paghuhusga, isang pagsisi, isang hanapan ng dahilan— siguro, ito na ang huling sagot ko sa iyo.

Hindi ko na kailangang lumingon pa. Hindi ko na kailangang ipaliwanag pa kung paano ako nakahanap ng iba, kung paano ako tuluyang nawala kahit sa harapan mo pa lang.

Wala na rin naman kahit na balikan, wala na ang tamis nung ika’y nahagkan, at sa huling paalam, naintindihan na sa ating dalawa, may ibang nakalaan.

Wala na tayong “tayo.” At kung iyon ang katotohanan, matagal ko nang natanggap iyon.

Sa pagkakataong ito, hindi ko na kailangang lumingon pa. Paalam.

"We cannot become what we want by remaining what we are"
-Max Depree

Leaving your job was never the loss.
The real loss would have been you—the slow unraveling of your spirit,
the exhaustion that blurred the edges of who you are,
the way the weight of work stole pieces of yourself until you barely recognized what was left.

You were never the loss. They were.

They lost someone who followed every order,
took on responsibilities beyond his role,
endured underpayment, delays, and mistreatment just to make a living.
But at what cost?
Respect was never part of the bargain.

You did everything.
You swallowed your pride despite having a degree,
despite knowing you deserved more.
But they?
They stripped you down, reduced you to a worker who must obey,
who must endure,
who must accept disrespect as part of the job.

Just because my partner made a mistake in cooking—
one that resulted from your lack of proper instructions—
you thought it was justified to punish him by making him stand for four hours?
What kind of person are you?

Don’t wait until life turns the tables on you.
The world is round.
you won’t always be on top.
Remember that.

I won’t waste my time engaging with you.
I will never stoop so low as to match your level.
You may be educated, but your behavior is anything but dignified.

They demanded without explanation,
expected without clarity, berated without reason.
And when they insulted you—called you stupid, incompetent—who was truly ignorant?
The employer who couldn’t give proper instructions?
The one who expected you to memorize recipes instantly?
The one who assumed you should move with the speed of a machine?

If they wanted a robot, they should have installed batteries in their kitchen.
They should have used a remote control instead of expecting you to function without rest,
without thought, without dignity.

But you? You are not a machine. And they? They are the ones who have lost.

Leaving that job does not mean failure. Staying in a place that destroys your sense of self—that would have been failure.

And the truth is, you are not alone. Many have walked away before you, many have endured the same abuse. And yet, no one stays.

Because respect is not found there.

Because dignity is worth more than a paycheck.

Because real loss is when you forget that you deserve better.

So, you walked away. And that? That was power.

Nice try, you can't hurt me
With a single blow, once or twice
I've done that, experienced that
A couple of hundred times
I ain't coming from the wake & bake family
I need no cannabis to smoke,
I breathe the smoke they puff in
I breathe it in like an air freshener
I breathe it out like a toxic waste
You know me don't you?
Only by my name, not the real me.

I always wonder why
Over time, my poems changed its tune
And why the ways of writing
Has somehow led me on a different direction;

Was it because I always tried my best
To rhyme my poem
Or to write in free verse
Or to write my feelings like a prose
Or to converse in narrative poems?
Or was it because I used to be young.

I was filled with so much hatred and anger
That I chose to fight my battles in secret
And let people see the results of my victory
Or maybe because I chose to keep silent
Even if I was given the chance to speak up

Maybe I chose to never tell them the truth
And told it to Hello Poetry instead
I was filled with so much forgiveness and sympathy instead
That I needed to be selfless
In order not to be labeled as selfish.

Or was it because I used to be young,
Innocent, immature and naive
Foolish, for a fact
That I thought when one cares about me
They needed something in return from me
I mistook and misunderstood plasticity from concern
Time told me then again, you revealed your true colors
And I was right, with your color of rainbow was somehow monochromatic to be exact

My guts told me about it all along
But I was tricked by my eyesight,
Even, by my heart and mind, deceived me.
At last, I was freed from their corrupted mind and treacherous heart.

That was because I used to be young.

Now that I am old,
Wise enough not to be told foolishly,
I learned my lessons
Gave up my sinful life and turned to God
I worry nothing more because I was freed.