hey,

i love you.

i just need to let it out somewhere because i can’t say it straight to your face.

hey,

i love you.

don’t even think that i dont hear you when you say it, i just opted to just write it here.

Shall I stay?

Would it be a sin

If I can’t help falling in love with you?

‪patawarin nyo po ako, Lord. pero kinikilig po talaga ako. im really really sorry! ‬

hi.

it’s been a month since we crossed paths again in the interwebs. also, i realized that it has been quite sometime since i listened to the music genre that i used to love in my secondary/uni/YA days. i stopped listening cuz i felt like that you and that era was so distant and gone.. why revive it.

now i am back (and so you are) and dont want to let it go yet. despite the fact that I feel too old listening (and singing along to this type of music).. so much nostalgia, i can’t contain- the feeling of being young, energetic and carefree! these are all the feelings that you give me. the thrill, the excitement… didn’t know i was longing for it until there was you…

Loving you is

sneaking out through the window

and breaking curfews.

It is being young and reckless

and doing God knows what

in God knows where

with God knows whom

in wee hours.

Loving you is

making excuses for

coming home late when

you’re supposed to be tucked in bed.

It is talking back

to mom and dad when they

get mad for suddenly being volatile

and delinquent.

Loving you is

ditching books and spectacles

for cigarettes and bottles of beer.

It is my kind of booze

and smoke, infusing addiction

into my veins.

Loving you is

running the red light while

smiling at you from

across the street.

It is driving at the speed

of light right past the no trespassing sign.

Loving you is

lying about where you’ve been

and losing your halo.

It is playing with fire

like a moth that

is bound to get burned.

Loving you is

diving headfirst into the unknown

abyss of feelings.

It is proceeding without caution,

tossing off every sense of prudence

to the wind.

I know.

You are a bad news.

You holler danger.

Trouble is written all over your face.

You are a catastrophe by design -

the epitome of what my parents warned me about.

But you are a gorgeous chaos

of motorbike rides, inked skin,

leather jackets, tattered denims,

platform boots,

lit cigar and booze.

I know.

You bring out the bad in a goody-two-shoes.

You make me drop my umbrella and dance under the rain.

You show me how to let loose and break away from normalcy.

I know.

Loving you is

bad but it feels good.

Loving you is

me, becoming less

like me and

more like those girls

in tight tank tops,

fitted ripped jeans, chokers

and red lipsticks.

But I don’t mind

becoming one of them.

You see, I don’t just bend the rules, I break them for you.

I know.

Loving you is

kissing safe and sound

goodbye but it is

living.

- I know, you are a bad idea.

Written by Nina Ricci