Euri Camua
Poet · Manila · Philippines
When emotions can’t be bottled up
A writing journey
I started writing not to be creative, I wrote my feelings down as if I can grasp the emotions and throw it out the window. All that remained was guilt, melancholy, and despair that made me hum a lonely tune. I love to experiment with different structures and would love a challenge.
Published writing
Coffee
You made me like coffee, not the drink itself, but the way it mirrored you, the bittersweet taste that lingered long after the warmth faded. Strangely enough, I started getting used to its taste. I found it comforting, like an embrace that engraves. Time, quickly slipping through an hourglass, moves too quickly to grasp. Yet, I still find myself sitting in a café, observing the dripping coffee. The world outside keeps rushing
Tick tock, tick tock, but inside I stay still.
Replaying laughter that’s now nothing but white noise.
From loving lattes to black coffee’s silence,
I sip, remembering how sweetness once felt.
When I die
When I die,
do not come looking.
You did not miss me
while I was breathing.
When I die,
do not come.
You already didn’t.
When I die,
do not polish my stone.
You wept for show.
I didn’t.
When I die,
do not visit.
I was a figure
you never wanted to see.
When I die,
do not mourn my grave.
Your grief was made
When I can’t be saved
When I die, don’t say “rest in peace”
I never called silence peace
When I die, don’t call my name
You forgot it while I was here
When I die, let it be wrong
My sentence never was finished
When I die, treat me as nobody
I was looked at yet never seen
Unrequited Fantasy
My mind wandered, adrift asleep
Two hearts beating in rhythm deep
Fingers entwined, an eternal sign
Oh, the warmth, new and divine
Your hazel-colored eyes gaze into my soul
Yearning runs deeply as it took its toll
I fell for your touch, thinking it was love
In the end, nothing was left to prove