It haunts us, we are scared of it.
But we spend a lot of time thinking about it.
We walk around wanting it.
It drives us, makes us passionate.
Ditch everything we know just to chase it.
Wake up the next morning hoping to revisit.

It is different for each person, and we try to make the most of it.
Next year we make a bunch of promises, and swear to it.
No more this, no more that, but more of it.
Finally be the person we want to be, get really fit.
Time passes by, we forget it.
Maybe next year we will regret it.

Once you look around, you will remember it.
Slow things down, take a glance, it will hit.
Every second counts, do not ever quit.
You only get it once, before you split.

It is called life, cherish it.

The moment you forget.
Mind wanders with regret.
Eyes blurred, lose focus.
“What’s my current purpose?”

Is spontaneous enough?
Chasing a dream, tough.
As a child we rushed,
what was all the fuss?

The lost moment finds.
The lost moment unwinds.
The lost moment reminds.
Messes with our minds.

In that moment there is clarity.
We connect with our reality.
Understand humanity.
Endless possibilities.
Test our comfortability.

A chance to breathe.
Rebirth and see.
Are we where
we want to be?

Take that lost moment,
to reset your focus.
To find yourself and
your new found purpose.

Finding a lover is effortless
for some people.
They only want a few things:
Someone attractive, kind,
funny or rich.

But
I desire
something so much deeper.

I want

an intelligent mind
that wakes up thoughts in me
I didn't realize were hibernating.

I want

to converse, analyze and debate
without being conscious of
the sun rising and falling
between our words.

I want

to make a witty remark
at a coffee shop
so he can reply sarcastically
just for me to jab back immediately
and for him to comeback back playfully
until we're both laughing
stomachs shaking
spit flying
the whole store staring
and we leave
without coffee

I want

our hands to stitch together
perfectly
like two lost puzzle pieces;
one found under a couch cushion
one found inside a junk drawer.
The rest of the puzzle has
already been thrown away
but
these two pieces remain
and they fit.

I want

to fall in love together
then together fall in love with
art, museums, songs, poems
T.V shows, radio jingles,
greek food, backroads,
our mutual hatred for pop culture,
doing the dishes (as long as he washes and I dry)
wrong turns, piled up laundry, life.
Just fall in love with life.

I want

to hurt with him

I want

to save the world with him

I want

to meet, see, understand
and experience all that is foreign
with him.

I think it will only take us meeting
and it'll only be history and happiness from then on.

It's just a matter of if a love like that could ever be
and if a love like that could ever be for me.

shut me down, sunshine
let me drown in a sea of questions
--hoping to get an answer

The splash of water slowly fades
I managed to stop the exploding grenade
The lightning bugs didn’t even bother to buzz
The birds, the cats, the howling wolves, i hush

I quiet the city sound, the busy street
I suppress my heart, every beat
I shut everything, everything to hear you
I silenced the milky way galaxy to listen to you

And then there I heard, i heard everything
The silent cries, the tears pouring
The commotion, uproar in your heart
The emotions wanting to burst

I heard your heart shattering
I heard the blood dripping
I heard every breath you released
As you picked every broken piece

I heard a happy noise
Followed by a cracking voice
You break out a long sigh
Then a very desolate cry

I love the riot in the stillness
Because I can clearly hear you
Every fiber of you
Every sound of you

And for you, my secret love

I will shut the world and open my ears to you
Until the day I finally hear a genuine laugh
I will silence every galaxy in the universe
Until the day you finally hear me too

Autumn.
The leaves are turning
brown and gold
Then fall.

Autumn.
It's about leaves and trees
Leaves leave trees
Trees are left. Naked.

But autumn
is more than the story
about 'leaving' and 'being left'.

Autumn
is the story about the trees
that is never worry
of being left by the leaves.

Autumn
is the story about the trees
that is never afraid
of letting go all things,
and being happy afterwards.

Because the trees know
there will always be
the new and better leaves
grow on them in spring.

And being left is actually a way
to a better coming...

-Kanya Puspokusumo-
http://doeniadevi.wordpress.com .

he drinks into oblivion
stumbles home drunk
hate slipping off his tongue like the alcohol that so easily flowed past it before
insults crashing into the ears that are so used to it, numb to it
his needle sharp words tearing into the scarred flesh of his beloveds' minds
pushing and pushing until the point of no return
gone