I want to
write your name
in the sky,
but the wind
blows the cloud
and pours me the rain,
so I think
your name
will be erased
again.

"You are doing great!"
Repeat after me, I said.
You are doing great!
Keep doing what you love!
Love it at all.
Love.
It's all.

Some say
you are easy enough
to be forgotten
as you look like
the most unknown man
they never see.

Some say
you are the most beautiful creature
I should stay away
as I am the old man
with a young soul
live in wild love.

Some say
the lost is nothing
and people are always like a flower
and you are really hard to pick all,
they come and go,
nobody can untouch.

There are so many lilies in my brain,
spreading the petals of the pain,
full of the fragrance of regret,
they are too hard to forget,
thrive and flow fast through the veins.

I'm here
sitting on the comfortable chair
with all of my poems
waiting to see
what the words could describe you.

I'm here
looking the blank pages
that I so much hate
all the time when
I want to write.

I'm here
where the pain
I so much love
grows the roses in my heart
then you freely pluck me.

I'm here  
where the night
letting the rain
pouring me from the sky
trying to **** every silence.

I'm here
where the shadows
become a crowd
burning my candle
showing me a smile.

I'm here
trying to phoned you
but you weren't in it,
I'm still here
to understand my loneliness.

Dear past self.
If you read this, you might realize that you have been through a lot of difficult things.
Look at yourself in front of the mirror so you could see yourself that has grown into a strong person.
You might have gone through so much pain and scars that you are no longer trying to cover up.
You have had enough and even more than enough.
Let time give you a chance to meet with happiness so you can see that the world is full of beautiful people.
Let them surround you, fill your days with meaning, and drive away your loneliness.
Let them be proud of who you are now.
You are extraordinary.

I even read
your famous poems
that many people
have read.

I even read
it many times
and got lost
in it.

I even thought
I might
easily remember
all the titles
of your poems
in every word
and I have also
been able to
understand it
little by little.

I even started
writing poetry
for myself.

I even sat
for a long time
just to think of words.

I even want
to be like you
or maybe more.

“Am I enough
to be able to achieve
what you once
achieved?”,
I tell you
in front of
these poems
of mine.

“I want to be myself”,
he told me in this poem
now you're
reading.

Don’t leave me alone
Don’t leave me alone in this way
I am too afraid to come back
And also to go to seek another
I forget that I had done with you
But everything I can remember is only the days I spent with you
And now it goes without you
The smell of you which the wind blows through my nose is my favourite fragrance
I love all about you
Don’t leave me alone
Don’t leave me alone in this way
I am here to wait for you
Don’t you want me as I've stood here?
The days we spent together
Now is going to be sweet memories
Did you see me as you see a reflection in the water?
Is it all you can see now?
Please don’t leave me alone
I am still here
Waiting with all love

Indonesia, 19th September 2021
Arif Aditya Abyan Nugroho

The time is so different when you are in love
They might be silent and you never told them what happened
You had met strangers before and got a relationship with them
They are in love with you, and yeah, you are also in love with them
You were going on a date
Kissing them
Hugging them
Spending your time as long as you could do to yourself
Loving them as far as you could give to them a love itself
You had so many beautiful days all the time when you were in love
You were happy, and you deserved to be happy
One week you did
One month you did
One year you did
And after, and after
But in one moment both of you felt bad and it was going to be mad
You broke your heart by trying to forget what you loved before
You tried, then you would say to yourself
“I hate growing up”
“I just want to be a kid all the time”
“I won’t be falling in love again, it hurts”
That’s statement might be unspoken
But yeah, maybe everyone thinks about it at once

If I could tell you how I missed you in one paragraph
The first line should not be the same as what I feel right now
The words that I used to be love actually gone
I will write it as far as I have done
I could not explain all of the memories in my head
Everything I can hold was staying in my bed

If I could tell you how I missed you in one paragraph
I am not sure I could write to you
The sounds that I hear
It is all I will bear
And it’s now standing to fear

If I could tell you how I missed you in one paragraph
My lips were tightened
My eyes were blinded
My ear was deaf
My hand was holding all of the lines that now hope my heart could fine

I will be forgotten
and I am waiting for it.
At first, you realized it
or in the last, you knew about it.
The time that brought you to grow
always explained to you that the suffering seems like the voices you can’t hold.
I will be forgotten
and you knew that I am waiting for it.
You tried to tell me about it.
But at first, I decided to be calm in every moment I can do.
The wind that blows.
The sun that always let me glows.
It will be remembered.
but I will still be forgotten.
The story that told you in every book you love just leave me memories.
That’s a gift so I had to keep them as I had many glories.
I will be forgotten.
All I wish I could do is only tell you
so it will be remembered.

At the moment when I woke up in the morning, the dim light was on to my room and I saw the beautiful things in yours, at that moment I found my soulmate.
They are still there even when I let them go.
The more I think about how beautiful in somethings are,
the more they are always beside me.
The space in my mind always gives them a chance to stay, and yes, they will stay.
The hardest part of letting them go when you couldn't notice them.
They are too far for you to reach because your heart always guides you in the way that will be able for you to pass.
Sometimes you know about it, but you try to ignore it.
I realized that the beautiful things in yours should be followed,
but you are always in silence,
so the voices in my head carry me to things that hard to understand and it makes construction in my human being to love you with great expectations.
"Is this what happened?", I asked myself.
But the loneliness in me answered that something unhappy should be not unshared.
It reshaped them all into my anxiety.
But suddenly, the voices in my head asked me,
"How's your day?"
"Did we see the same most unexpected ways?"
"I wish you loved me as you love the journey of your life,
please stay calm, I was listening to you."
That was a beautiful goodbye.

Sometimes,
things are so hard to do
because we never try to start.
Prefixes
are always important
for finding patterns.
Like writing poetry.
Yes,
I have sat alone
in front of  the paper
on the table
many times
with a pen.
I thought about
what I really needed to do first;
beautiful words with parables.
I've been sitting for hours,
walking here and there,
then sit back down again
to finish composing a poem.
But I've never finished it
until now.

Darling,
the words are now wilting,
give birth to the scent of roses.
The youth we fail to understand, expectations are increasingly wanted to always be fulfilled.
Bringing the flocks,
then grow and age.
If only things couldn't go away so easily,
maybe we've always been there.

If I were a fire, and you were my candle,
I might burn your body,
then illuminate every dark space
and make it bright;
even if it doesn't reach everything,
at least we haven't gone astray
for a while.

If I were a fire, and you were my candle,
we would burn at every celebration,
in birthday or wedding cakes.

If I were a fire, and you were my candle,
we would be a farewell gift,
and leave a scar on every melt.

Some nights are wild,
and you must be calm.

If only you knew
where I learned to hate myself,
I would tell you
when I've become good at loving things
that is beyond my control right now.

It's true that my heart
was never free without you.
But who else cares now,
after all, life is what we live by ourselves.
Even caring is just an illusion.
Even though we once shared one hope, it turns out that only one of us always gets a share.
O mercy turned into ruins,
those who were once one are now scattered.
I don't mean to say this,
but why don't we live in many points of view.
Can't we just use it however we want?
It's unfortunate that they always follow the mob.
Happy are those who have their own way.

We all need a dream that just not a dream.
We must go to get it,
even if you don't know how to get it.
You just need to follow your heart
and don't break your heart
by your great expectations.
I know we all need a dream that just not a dream.
One day, if you find your way don't tell everyone about it.
Don't tell everyone how you get there,
because some people just want to follow you
but they don't know that they are not you.
When you go and find the hard things to do,
when you feel you are too tired to continue,
when you feel you haven't got that success,
don't stop what you had been doing.
Keep your own way lead you,
and keep following your heart,
and take it with all of your soul.
You are enough,
and even you have more enough than fought.

But in the meantime
we must be content,
I say, to be misunderstood for a while.
We are all very anxious to be understood,
and it is very hard not to be.
But there is one thing much more necessary;
to understand other people.

One day, somehow
your name will sound again
and my name makes you feel
become abstruse.

Often,
time is not the answer
which we have been looking for.

You may have received
something that was once foreign to you.
I now have to
to be stranger
and accept it.

We have agreed to marry.
You marry the person you feel is right for you.
I married loneliness
which I feel will never be right
and that you have given me.

You are now busy at work.
I'm busy loving now
scenes
now
never again

there is.

I stood in front of the mirror again,
see a sad face,
looking for where to be happy.
I'm looking for myself,
maybe lost among the piles of books,
I want to find it among the quotes on my favorite novel,
which I borrowed from you.
I looked for it again yesterday.
But I lost you today.
Turns out we still need to write a story,
but not to write love,
any of them.

Even,
nothing is more important
instead of dropping the body on the bed
just to know yourself
with dreams too high.

Like dead leaves,
and shadows,
and all the things we find each other
in our heads.

A little light and pretend to forget.
A little disappointed, still not gone.
Then stare into nothingness,
and remember you
for every eternity.

What we need
just a swarm of explosions
which is enough for us to always measure
and then compare.

It turns out
words just to be taught,
then propped up
until death.
Fall.
Then we hug again.

When I kissed your lips for the first time,
souls unite and vibrate in the crown of the head.
Our world cries out just to be owned by the two of us.

The wind that had brought the news then stopped,
looked at the two pairs of eyes that were not mutually exclusive,
traced the area making out intimately,
put on a stunned body.

The air that warms the body turns the sweat cold,
the heart races as if we are being chased by danger;
so fast, and great.

The light touches our eyes gently, beautifully, and so enchantingly; relieves every pain,
burns every bitter taste.

I kissed those lips for the first time.
And the birds chirping from afar sounded more melodious adorning the ears,
making ornaments on every scale.
And trauma turns into the experiences we've been looking for, during the transition from adolescence to adulthood.

I kissed those lips,
feeling relieved and happy afterward.
But now those lips had kissed someone else's,
and I'm sure everyone had witnessed the memories.

I always imagined
I'm on the beach,
watching the waves roll in from your long hair booth,
seagulls flying on a sailing ship,
o it flies between the two of us
who are running around
looking for *****
on the shore
which turns out
to be close to the beach.
My lips,
so salty sweat
and sea water add happiness there.
I saw the sun rising
and setting in our e y e s,
which turned out to be a s i g n,
I needed to learn
to love the lost dusk
and also the dawn that came.
I saw the fishermen
who came
                   and then left
and that was my
h e   art
that was anchored in the old wharf which turned out to be quiet and
l               one            ly,
and was your  h   e   art  there too?
I always imagined
we forget names,
forget places,
but don't forget to go home.
Or perhaps, this is another option.
I always imagined
we were in a house in a cool village, where the rice fields were green and wide,
so vast that our l  ove was never measured.
The chirping of birds will always be heard
and answered so s w e e t l y
from tree branches
whose leaves are thick and shady; every time you
                            and
                                    I wake up.
From the windows and ventilation aisles,
sunlight e n t e r s to warm our cold bodies shivering all night
because of the
r
               a
                                i
   n
and      
         s     t    o   r   m   s
that never subside,
even though we have spent the night with various kinds of hugs
that are not the same.
Even I always imagined
you are there
when I imagined good things,
maybe when you are not by my side and I feel it is not something that feels good.
I always imagined
that I really love you.
And you really love me too.

O, I always imagined it all
when I see you smile every time
I have a bad day, and you said, everything
      must
         be
           easy
             for
              you
               to
                 go
                   through.

I imagined that, while writing this poem.

I remember the days
when you talk more
while I prefer silence
and listen.
I remember the days
where the conversation
only happens through one side.
I remember the days
where words are warmer than a kiss
and hugs.
I remember the days
when you prefer to side with separation.
I remember the days
when you try not to remember me.
I remember those days.
And you no longer want to remember everything.

Like a hole in the toilet
and everything we've left there.
Flowing fast of our heads and minds. Blurring in every sight, then shattered at every shock.

(We've dived into the memory of the remains, we then grab it in vain).

Like a hole in the toilet
and everything we've left there,
and everything we're trying to get after.
Everything,
just a soul which used to be frozen and now dead stiff.

Like a hole in the toilet
and everything we've left there.
Hope will reproduce again,
and fail always win more,
we both have tried,
we both feel relieved.

When our love
that we want to
doesn't have
another season,
I wish
I would not
leave this heart
with crying anymore.

Now I know
You’re flying high
Take my scars
Our feelings blow into the wind
Sometimes
I wish one day I could take your hand
Walk in the strange path that nobody sees it
I want to say
That you are always mine
As you’ve loved me
As you've loved me

Every poet takes his own lonely path to compose poetry.

We may see a love like this
When I see your smile through my eyes
But you see me cry from other ways

Love, I want to have you
That's what the world teaches through words
Of course, you need to say it

Love, I want to  have you
That's what human mothers and fathers have done
And babies are born from them

Love, I want to have you
And the universe that we walk on leads us to always love each other

Love, I hate you
I hate when the time I brought suddenly disappears
When I see the hands of my watch stop moving
Then I grabbed something empty when I reached into my pants pocket

Love, you are art
Even though art knows no form
You are beautiful
But not everyone sees it

Love, you are lost time
When I hate you

And
when the eyes come back
to shed tears,
I hope
it’s not a cry of remorse,
nor to let go.

She was the twilight
that lit up in my eyes.

She was the moon
that lit up my dark night.

She was the star
that guide my way home.

She was here before,
and now she belongs to someone else.

Because the dialogue between us is only a matter of waiting for time.

When we last saw each other
or when it all ended
and never happened forever,
just like that.

Tell me your favorite song,
I will probably listen to it many times, even if I don't like it.
Just mention one by one,
I will make them my favorite playlist.
I've been listening to everything since the first time I met you.
Look,
here,
where I will play it all as a lullaby,
or a string of words that is now a magic and grows in my head.
I will make it a favorite song.
Just count it, I'll start it.
One.
Two.
Three.
I already like it.

And now your favorite song is mine.

Please give me your heart,
because I've just lost
my
                                 S
                              .
                         O
                      .
                 U
              .
         L

One day you will find me too,
and all these poems.
Then, I will really not write anymore, maybe my days will be complete, and all will be lost.
At that time,
you will realize,
what it's like to be someone to remember, what I love you more, because the air only leaves the smell of ink marks on the paper.

If I can still express all the feelings
I'm experiencing through words,
it's a sign that I'm still alive.

I am twenty three
She is twenty seven
I love her so much free
Our love is now flying in heaven

I am younger than her
She is older than me
Both of us are always together
Let sing a happy song for me

I am an ordinary boy
She is gorgeous one
We always enjoy
And make this life so much fun

I live in fantasy world
She tries to make me real
I want to grow old
and the love gives me all the feel

"What is your favorite song?", I asked you.

"What is your favorite love story?", I asked myself.

"What is yours?", the question asked herself.

"I am yours", the answers answered their will.

Give me a pen
and put it on my right hand,
I will write our story
with the right love,
so we have a new plan
to explore this journey.

You lock your heart tightly,
I'm the wrong key.

You are a butterfly
that flies and perches
on a corpse flower
throughout the rainy season
in December.

There are days
when I'm so happy,
not when I'm writing poetry about love,
but I find love itself.

Two people are all the same
If you see them in one frame
But they have two sides
The one I guess have sit besides
Two people are all the same
I think that is I am
But another's hide
And also need a guide

I tried to read you
but I forgot that line which is my favorite in a book.

I tried to read you
but I forgot if I have lost the way to spell the words.

I tried to read you
but I forgot that you have first learned how to be a quote that I have tried so many times to love.