Within these four walls
I befriend the darkness
and my shadow is
no longer an ally.
Fifty-three minutes
and twenty-seven seconds
later
I burst into
broken butterflies' wings
and deafening screams
to keep the light away.
"Solitude is bliss."
but I find my
disturbia and bravado
within these four walls.
Jun 3, 2014
Jun 3, 2014 at 11:34 AM UTC
Why do you sleep with your eyes open
and why do you breathe out sighs everytime?
Do you still feed on
worries and uncertainties,
my love?
Are you still having the same dream every night
and will your shrug be a satisfying answer
to my otherwise unimportant question?
Your hazel eyes are now
almost a vessel
not quite empty
yet not quite filled
for it contains nothingness
and it holds them with care
as if nonexistence is fragile
But I want to stare into those eyes
and drown myself in the depth of that gaze
Once again
But I refuse to be strangled by guilt
Because darling from now
I'll stop sugar-coating words
Reading you make-believe allegories
Or sprinkling fairy dusts
of empty promises
I have ceased to be anything like you
Now,
why do you stay silent,
my love
when you can tell me to stop?
Is it because
you, too
are losing hope?
Apr 19, 2014
Apr 19, 2014 at 8:19 PM UTC
so I have decrypted
the puzzles of your syllables
that lies
in the eyes of fireflies
in hopes that it will
illuminate
both
your obfuscous heart
and
your nebulous mind
Mar 29, 2014
Mar 29, 2014 at 8:11 PM UTC
I am
but a rainbow splash
on a canvas
later photographed
and printed
in black and white
Aku hanya
warna pelangi kau percik
di kanvas
lantas menjadi santapan
lensamu
dan akhirnya
kau cetak hitam putih
Mar 25, 2014
Mar 25, 2014 at 1:57 PM UTC
but
the skies aren't always blue
there'll be days where the flowers don't bloom
and the grass isn't always greener on the other side
but
the milk spills
and you get blamed
and you'll run out of cereal
but
everybody dies
and nothing lasts forever
but
it's a secret
you should not know
but
you won't walk this pavement again
because everyday is a bad day
but
you know happiness is a choice
- and that you need no reason to be happy
for reasons may leave
or be taken away -
amidst the buts
Mar 25, 2014
Mar 25, 2014 at 1:38 PM UTC
Why haven't you been writing lately?
Because I miss walking at the park
Passing by your house
Looking at you through the window of your room
So preoccupied
So absorbed.
Your soul is shrunken
into the end tip of a pen
and you let it dance on the paper
to the rhythm of your words
and later
fathomed into magnificent poems
But I've found the reason
on a yellow Post-It
in a secret compartment
of a music box
left at my doorstep
It says,
"Pardon me
but you've been interrupting
my train of thoughts
quite often lately.
How about scones and tea
after three,
just you and me?"
with your initials signed
The reason is me
and somehow I'm happy
Nov 18, 2013
Nov 18, 2013 at 7:46 AM UTC
being in love with me
means you've agreed
that each and every of your remarks
will be portrayed in lines of my poems
exhaled as air of my every breath
to be let out as sighs and gasps.
the thought of you will run through
my tangling veins
engraved not in my skin but my bones
even when my body is crushed
you'll float as fairy dust.
your name
will be hummed in the melody
of my dearest lullaby
you'll be the reason i sleep;
you're the sweetest of dreams.
being in love with me
tells that you've agreeed
to be loved by this very being
that carries the definition of imperfections
till the day all seas have gone dry
till the hour all birds refused to fly
till Death greets us both
like old friends meeting at coffee shops
being in love with me
might not be one of the wonders
because i am a bird with a broken wing
a crashed airplane
a forgotten book
a rejected mixtape
an ignored museum
an unwanted company
to many
a nuisance
all that i can assure you is that
when
being in love with me
the least i can do is
love you as a whole
in spite of your broken heart
your past
your flaws
your everything
- Qdri M (17/10/13 01.06AM) -
Oct 16, 2013
Oct 16, 2013 at 1:06 PM UTC
Do you still remember
The lavender scent
of home
The smell of spearmint toothpaste
of long-waited mornings
The first note
your mother taught
when you started playing the piano
The self-proclaimed lucky tee
You wore on every football try-out
The book you read
that only let you sleep when dawn came
The song you sang to her
right after asking
"Would you marry me?"
The cry
of your very first child
You may have forgotten
things you were so familiar with
things that were once so evident
But know that
They remained
They were waiting faithfully
For you
They missed you
And I bet they still do
Oct 16, 2013
Oct 16, 2013 at 9:56 AM UTC
kau bilang "i love you"
in the most monotonous of tones
kau tak renung pun matanya
dan kau expect dia untuk percaya?
yang belakang-belakang pula
tak payah cerita
cinta
konon.
Oct 14, 2013
Oct 14, 2013 at 5:39 AM UTC
I want to be the hands
that aid
the hurting heart, left and ignored
that shed
those tears in silence
the grief when the sobbing is not heard
because the voice of insurgent is too loud
I want to be the words
that comfort
the most restless of bodies, almost every night
that lifts
every of those who has thoughts about giving up
I want to be the hands
as well as the voice
that stop those innocent wrists from being slit
from bleeding unceasingly
the arms
that hug the body that wishes to willingly jump down
from the highest building in town
No other trigger will be pulled
No other rope will be hung
No other life will be taken
As long as there's hope
Oct 12, 2013
Oct 12, 2013 at 10:23 AM UTC