I could have read “The Fault in our Stars”

but I chose to hear your laments

about your ex who chose

his ex over you.


The pain in my chest

is an inactive volcano

ready to burst into tears,

my emotion is a magma

and all I can do is keep quiet,

to stay still for a moment

until I could do no more.


Listening to the same stories,

same characters,

same settings is more tolerable

if you would only try to include me

as one of the who

in the where, when, why and how.


Last night, I traveled a mile,

walked for a while just to commiserate

with you, to be with someone like you

whose stories I dare not dream of having

for I know that tragedies

are better only for people

who can smile and laugh

despite the challenges

life has to offer.


Oftentimes, we would share

tears and smiles

over the phone for an hour

or two and all I could say

is Yes or No.


There are days I would spend with you

than have a day off and rest with my cat

whose stories are happier, my cat

whose paws could wipe

the tears of the stars.


I could only feast on memories

but you could never be

one of those memories

for your memories, I was

never a knight-in-the-shining-armor.



First published in The Literary Yard

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