impiyerno

Payongs made of flimsy membranes prevail 
shielding from the sun’s harsh scrutiny  
pamaypays bloom in the pews pushing hot air fruitlessly
scraggly strands of wires weave their way through haphazard buildings  
like a weak network of capillaries waiting to blow a fuse 
itchy ankles from phantom bites badger my underbelly 
I speak in little pops of Bisaya to stake some sort of claim 
an oppressive heat that rips the pores open unleashing our vices — our devils
heat waves warp our morals 
our sense of self rippling in a mirage 
a 4-foot-5 Goliath whose self righteous opinions tower over you
and a David who can’t see past her main character syndrome  
scathing words 
hard truths 
bottled up resentments 
suspended in thick air 
I am frozen in that moment 
caught in the crossfire 
I wish I could cut a hole into this moment and release the torturous pressure. 
But it’s futile.
their pride is hot air
now we’re sitting in these feelings
there is no relief — no exit  
proving Sartre right.