Kuceritakan Sebuah Rahasia

Aku pernah memecahkan sebuah gelas

Hingga hancur dan kepingannya berserakan kemana mana
Bergegas aku mengambil perekat
Berharap gelas itu masih bisa selamat

Namun sekalipun aku bersusah payah

yang kudapati hanya tangan berdarah

Sekalipun aku menukar jiwa

ia tak kembali sedia kala

Ia retak
Ia rusak

Lalu aku memutuskan untuk menyimpan gelas itu
Di lemari kaca rahasiaku
Kusimpan rapat-rapat
Erat-erat
Bersama serpihan-serpihan yang tak mau menyatu
Bersama dengan ketidaksempurnaan yang hanya aku yang tahu

--07

Comments

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...

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 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 ...

Ruang Katarsis

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