Inkwell Chronicles

Horizons Unwritten by: Kathleen Joyce Jargue  I kept fighting, even as the battle tore me apart—shattering me, piece by fragile piece. And in the silence between the chaos, I whispered to myself: “Is this still worth it?” “Is love still worth the war… when I’m the only one bleeding for it?” “Is it still worth holding on to someone who never once reached out to hold me back?” In that fleeting moment, I realized I’d rather sail without a map. No longer holding back—just letting go and casting myself into the unknown. I thought it would be hard to sail on my own, afraid I might lose my way. But little did she know, sailing without a map would lead her to clearer skies—skies carved by her own hands. Now, I have found my peace—not in certainty, but in the fierce conviction of choosing myself. And in that choice, I carry no regrets—only freedom. Though it hurts to close the chapter you were once a part of, the ink of goodbye still stains the pages of my soul. No longer bound by...

The Ink of Parting by:  Jargue, Kathleen Joyce O. Moonlight's soft glow, shimmer tears silvery, Weeps for long lost love, turns to misery. His shadow hums in whispers through the tide, A name half-formed that will not be denied.   The aching winds consume her fleeting breath, Each sigh a vow that binds his soul to death. No dawn can heal the void his absence made, For even stars retreat to darker shade.   The sea laments with cries of sorrow deep, And rocks recall the vows he swore to keep. The night, a tomb that locks her broken plea, Enshrined her heart with chains of memory.   Trusting the winds will guide him to her shore, To bring the dawn her heart has longed for more. Till then, she watch the waves in endless flight, And guard his ghost within her souls dim light.    

  The Alchemy of Almost by: Jazmyn Alexa Ataylar  Caped with lonesome, smoky, gray-blue clouds Its musky-scented, bubbling waves—dark shrouds, Wrap around silent thoughts in cold caress Drawing mem’ries of my love’s lost embrace.   I conjured stars to spell your hidden name, Yet spells dissolve, illusions burn to flame. The quiet comfort of your fleeting gaze, A phantom fire that set my heart ablaze.   You were the dream I dared not call my own, An "almost" love carved deep into the stone. Each glance a charm, each word a sacred sign, I wished, I prayed, that I could call you mine.   This wound I nursed became my sweetest curse, An aching thirst that only grew perverse. It bled devotion, frantic, fierce, and stark, Yet time stole you, a thief hid in the dark.   But shadows whispered truths I failed to see, The sweetest lie was one I wrote for me. For in your silence, distance did reside, And all my magic vanis...

  The Silence After Ticktock by: Jazmyn Alexa Ataylar   Ticktock, ticktock… I watched the moment drift beyond the clock. As its hands moved clockwise, memories kept passing by like a piano that had lost its tune. Too frail to leap, I let the sound consume my soul. The ghost of “what would be”   won the show, and followed close to haunt my sleep each day.   Memories turned into nightmares that wounded me. I hear its whisper—ticktock, ticktock—when night is near. A breath of might have been chills my bone. It feeds on every choice I made in fear, and leaves me captive to the seeds I’ve sown in silence.   And I am here again, facing the clock. Ticktock, ticktock… Oh, if only risk had found a place in me, the path I lost might bloom with light and fire. But here I walk with specters I alone can see, the ghost of life denied by my desire.   Chains of doubt were forged by my own hand. They bind me fast to shad...

Katukayo “Hori, tigilan mo na nga pakikipag-usap dun sa katukayo ko,” daing ng kaibigan kong parang pinaglihi sa sama ng loob. Nagseselos na naman ang mokong dahil may kaibigan akong kapangalan niya. Ayaw niya raw na may iba akong “ best friend ” bukod sa kanya, kasi siya lang daw ang nakakatiis sa ugali kong daig pa ang math problems sa hirap intindihin at sa mood swings kong nahihiya raw pati climate change. “Hoy, magtigil ka nga Christian. Wag ka ngang OA, okey! Hindi lang ikaw ang pinanganak na Christian ang pangalan. Classmate ko yun, at matalino siya kaya kinakaibigan ko. ‘Wag kang panira ng trip, pwede?” Tahimik siyang tumingin, parang bata na inagawan ng paboritong laruan. Ang totoo, minsan talaga sarap upakan nun—ang lakas manita, ang daming bawal, pero siya rin yung unang nandiyan kapag sobrang malungkot ako. Kahit mukha na kong sirang plaka kakakuwento. Kaya kahit nakakapagod intindihin, hindi ko rin siya maiwan. Nakakatawa lang, kasi ang lakas niyang magbigay ng mixe...

  Online Class “Sino na ba ang magtatalakay ngayong araw?” tanong ng aming guro sa Filipino habang isa-isang sumisilip sa screen ang mga mukha naming kasing labo ng mata ko sa sobrang hina ng signal. Online class na naman kami dahil sa biglang pagkawala ng tubig sa barangay malapit sa aming paaralan. “Ako na po, Ma’am,” sagot ni Gayle, ang kaklase kong laging handa at mahusay sa reporting. Habang nagsisimula siyang magpaliwanag, dama ko agad na mas malinaw ko na namang mauunawaan ang paksa, ang hina ko kasi masyado sa Filipino. Ngunit sa kalagitnaan ng kanyang diskusyon, biglang bumungad ang tugtog ng “Maybe This Time” ni Sarah Geronimo. Saglit siyang natigilan, at kami naman ay nagkatinginan sa aming maliliit na kahon sa screen. Una ay iniisip naming aksidente lang pero habang tumatagal, palakas nang palakas ang musika—tila ba sinasadya. Sa halip na mainis, ngumiti lang si Gayle at biglang sinabayan ng pagkanta ang tugtog. Napanganga kami, maya-maya ay nagtawanan at sabay...