Skip to main content

Posts

a chunk of glass

i've been wanting to paint your soul with the color of the world so that you can see the magic hiding behind everyone's eyes i've been wanting to whisper poems about stars and dreams to your abyss praying for you long last memories i've been wanting to stitch your limbs to help you learn how to dance and venture to fail your loneliness from tearing you apart maybe if i had listened to the beat of your core how transparent and colorless it was like a chunk of glass i see that's why sometimes it looks empty only when i finally tried to stare closely and squint my eyes only if i was not too scared to know what's inside it was unmolded not sure if it's too strong or too stubborn either way, it remained the same.

letter for blue

recently i have forgotten your birthday. i still remember your voice and the way you talk. i've made peace with my feelings. but sometimes you appeared in my dreams as both fantasy and nightmare. you're something i wish i could erase. yet here i am clinging onto the smallest thing like your smile that would never be intended to me. memories are deceitful, and i hope so. i hope it's my memories that betray me, that i am actually just a sick person and you're nothing but a halucination. so i could drink the medicine and be okay. perhaps it is not about you, perhaps you've unfortunately became a proof of something more tragic than pure. a door for the darkness that has existed in me since a long time ago. it is pathetic how i froze whenever i saw a glimpse of your fractions in a crowd or when a stranger has your name, eventhough i knew it was not the real you. i have always known that loneliness takes half of my being. as if i am not 'me' if i do not have them...

< animus >

Tonight, I’d be fine I could sleep In the midst of chaos I’d move backwards everytime my guilt decapitated my essence Tonight, I found somebody's reflection on a broken mirror And it was a boy He was made from my desperate prayers in every crowds Sometimes I saw him with his innocent smile Sparkling eyes and curly hair Clean uniforms and black loafers His voice was kind He looked alive, and perfect Unlike the world I was ragged I wish I was you I'd have been beautiful Tonight, I'd fight with my dirty nails and sharpened wooden stick You’d fight with soft words that kill minds I drank their blood You danced with their corpses But we both lost the war, despite our childhood secret dreams We knew we’d do Maybe I should hold your hand from the start Before I brought you your death, and you brought mine But it’s fine Cause the longing is finally ending The longing is finally ending. ~•~ / Why I Only Face You Now When I've Known You Since F...

letter from consciousness

Saving you is a way to save myself. There were times when I was frightened with being empty. Empty means I have no solid core. I imagine myself functioning like a sponge, in which is capable of absorbing all those residues that left by other people. Sponge only has meaning when it is capable of permeating. Therefore, I become anxious when it's empty. I'll urgently pull things as fillers, whether they make sense or not. I become obsessed with it for awhile. Walking on this heavily congested earth like a wanderer searching for purpose. I am searching for something like sorrow, so I am able to breaking it down into small particles I could hold with my palms. Maybe it explains my attachment with everything that is complicated and ruined. Somehow, it almost looks like a wonderful illness that makes you sick with excitement. As if I am a sage without any heroes to guide. I write their stories in a journal exhibited in my consciousness, drafting them down until they become a pattern ...

Tukas Maret

Kau masih tertidur di sana. Di kasurmu yang sudah lembab, jejak tenggelam mencetak massa tubuhmu yang sudah kaku, yang kainnya tak lagi kusut oleh lekuk. Ia memanas, kemudian mendingin oleh waktu-waktu yang kau gunakan untuk diam, menghirup hiruk pikuknya kehidupan, lalu kau embuskan selayaknya debu penuhi rongga dadamu. Sesak . Kau tekan tumit ke atas lantai yang terasa lengket di kulit, terasa mengganggu. Langkahmu mengecap dinginnya permukaan rumah, suaranya menelisik sudut-sudut gelap, mengirim getaran pada sarang-sarang binatang yang mendiami rumahmu selayaknya teman kamar. Mereka terasa lebih familiar denganmu daripada kawan-kawan. Kau coba jelaskan pada cermin bahwa ini bagian dari kehidupan, untukmu terperosok lalu nantinya bangkit lagi, seperti kerja gelombang. Tapi kau terjebak di bawah sini begitu lama, mewanti-wanti kapan momentummu datang membawamu naik ke puncak. Kau terdiam begitu lama, mendangak ke atas, lalu kesepian mulai merayapi pori-pori kulitmu. Rasanya seperti di...

letter from underground

no, i could not talk to you, sweetheart. this was something i had brought since i was born. this was not a curse. this was something tied in both my hands, some sort of vines were lingering on every pores of my arms' skin. the disgust was immense in me. and i imagined if i could love as hard as i was disgusted. but love left a bad taste in my tongue. my heart was a deep hollow, sweetheart. five seconds ago i remembered the kindness you gave me, then i had forgotten your name. was i fooled by my own brain? was i delusioned with the slight happiness i was momentarily given despite this big hollow that could gulp the moon. it was a loose chance. i was barely distracted from my genuine hatred. thus, i become so afraid of such blinding emotions and forgot my stance. i was not a great man, but i put my self in a higher position than those around me. in what position, you could not understand, sweetheart. i was not you, or anyone. this was not a proud regard. i was merely a terrible man. ...

anjing

bersama kalam-kalam kelam yang menyulam hati yang kelimpungan dalam riuh, kegaduhan, dan girang-girang yang melemahkan pelihara-pelihara, apakah kita peliharaan? dunia penuh anjing-anjing, apa benar kita ini anjing yang menggonggong sebab perut keriput dan rongga kosong menunggu daging dilempar dan kita akhirnya bungkam lalu menggonggong lagi esok paginya pada tuan yang sama yang mengelus leher kita sambil pijit-pijit agar tidak digigit jika tidak ada daging di piring apa yang akan kita makan sang tuan atau anjing-anjing tuan makanlah hasil buruan dari terburu yang memburu kalungku ini hanya ilusi tapi terikat menembus kulit hingga menyatu dengan nadi kalau kau tarik aku yang mati

made of dreams

i sweat, girl, i sweat. the night sky is not pitch black, they are blue. and i felt something exploded in my nothingness. i swear, girl, i swear. i saw a paladin riding his white horse on the moon's face. and i don't know how to explain what does not exist. but it feels real, it feels real . i am most awake when i dream.

Self-sabotage

It's a pitch black sky without stars. You are just an empty house without any properties to offer. You swear it's cold in the middle of summer and everyone says the sunlight stings their skin. But you zipped up your jacket because your hands always freeze. The sunlight never reaches you, but flame never feels enough until it burns you into ashes. The world has always been blurry and your senses are dead. You could not hear any noises or see anything. And the headache feels like someone keeps trying to break your skull from inside to stop you from remembering. Words seem like a broken signal to you as if it's your first time talking. You forget how to feel, like you forget how to eat. You are just incapable. Because you're a terribly ruined person through and through. One night you are stuck in the corner of your mind, wondering a way to escape from this unknown room but how the heck are you trapped here for years. And it's locked. You try to remember good things but...

Asing dan Akrab

Aku mencoba berpijak di tempat ini. Dan hujan yang mengguyur menusuk tengkukku. Dinginnya kusanggah berkali-kali hingga aku kebasahan olehnya, pun aku menolak untuk berteduh. Segala sudut di tempat ini tak ada yang mampu melindungiku, namun aku berusaha melingkupinya dengan lengan kurusku agar suatu hari terpeluk ia dengan keberadaanku. Ada sebuah pohon kersen mungil, dan di bawahnya tanah licin yang tertimpa dedaunan kering. Kemudian dedaunan itu berubah hitam, dan tanah kering menjadi gambut. Hujan turun tanpa henti. Tubuhku menggigil dan pakaianku serasa menyatu dengan kulit. Aku memeluk belaian sensasi familiar yang tak berbentuk. Gemuruh langit terdengar seperti irama jantungku; bergetar di tengah beku. Aku berdiri dilawan deru angin yang berusaha kujabat agar menjadi kawan, dan pohon-pohon yang bergoyang serupa sorakan semu. Dalam gema keheningan yang luas dan tak berdinding ini kupikir aku pulang. "Inilah tempatku," ucapku pilu.