viva tres ojos :: Shireen Seno

blind :: amalia aquino

paper::
Carmel Laurino & Isa Lorenzo

A heart is not a simple shape. It’s a mess of flesh and veins and blood. A palpitating muscle that’s blamed whenever one decides to act on a crazy impulse –

Such as, I flew across the country with only the clothes on my back because I had to see you. As Pascal says, the heart has its reasons whereof reason knows nothing. I was sure that I was doing the right thing.

But when I saw you, you had your arm around some girl. She had her head against your chest, and she was smiling.

At that moment my heart – how else to describe it? – failed. Not that I died, or even fainted. Nothing so dramatic. But I felt something inside me slowly crumble. The pieces flew out of my chest, up, up, until they were all out of sight.

Nevermore will my fortune follow my heart’s desire.