here first. until we are there.

ganito pala ‘to

even if you hide in your own life, you bear pieces of people. you carry them everywhere like they were your own. you’ve just gotten so used to holding someone else’s tears or love or longing that when they come to ask for them back , they’re stained with your fingerprints, softened by being stuck in your wallet or between the pages of your journal.

they look at these fragments tinged with your own desire to keep things whole, and realize that you belong to them too.


One response

  1. des

    demmet, anina. got me there. how are you, love? hope to see you soon:-)

    January 23, 2008 at 2:00 pm

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