happiness is mad at me because i don’t write about her more often
she shows up at 1:28am and hugs me tight like my mom does once in a blue moon
she looks the same as always but my life doesn’t
i would have shoved all my poems adressed to misery into the drawer if i’d known she is visiting
“it’s okay” she said
“i’m used to the stale stench of heartbreak and anxiety lingering in your bedroom”
she’s lying
i know she’s lying and she knows that i know
she takes her usual spot on my bed
“you should think of me more often” she tells me
she concludes that she is after all a state of mind
in turn, i tell her that hanging out with friends and forgiving my mom don’t exactly work
“you just need to think of me more often”
i tell her i do think of her; when the sky is pretty or the food is good
i think of her between the lines of my favorite songs and each strokes of my favorite paintings
not looking convinced, she glances and says
“why don’t you write about me?”

i don’t know the answer

i want to tell her
i see your face amongst picture of my friends and i;
i see you in my daily glass of tea;
i see you all the time and i try to write about you all the time
but i don’t say anything because i already know the answer
she gets up to leave and i ask her to stay
she tells me she’ll try and visit again
“think of me more often, think of me as if i’ve never left
think of me, write about me
but don’t think that you’ll find me and don’t expect me to stay”
  
i want to send this to her
but she hates it when i try to reach her and i don’t know her address
but then again, it’s not like she has a permanent residence

im the one who usually held on tighter instead of letting go
so i water this love knowing very well your thorns are going to make me bleed
and sometimes it was red
sometimes it was poetry
sometimes it was hide and seek with your “i love you”s
but im the one who chose to let go now
and i still bleed occasionally
sometimes it was regret
sometimes it was the way you used to sound over the phone
and sometimes its nothing
and nothing is the worst way to bleed

setanmu itu,

ia masih menghampiriku
duduk di ujung kuku kakiku
bersabda sepanjang malam
agar aku tidak pernah lupa
pada satu pertanyaannya:

mengapa
aku sampai membakar diri
untuk menjual jiwa
pada nyala sepercik
padahal lamanya
tak akan lebih dari sedetik

kenapa, tanyanya,
aku bersikap tak acuh
padahal hati ingin bertaruh
tetapi malah memilih menjauh
dengan terseok-seok pula lumpuh

kenapa,
balik kutanya,
kenapa
kamu masih di sini?

i keep cold when i talk about it. a few months is hardly enough time to keep you under my tongue, let alone let you swallow me whole. but i spent those nights waiting for you on street corners. laughing while you try to make a perfect sunny-side egg for our breakfast. learning to kiss your hard shoulder in the morning.

i try and take back the pieces. but i told you about my mom. i let you meet my dad and make him laugh. i know it’s just the consequence of believing in unspoken promises. but even with all the cold i try to keep, god knows you had a smile that could’ve kept me.

so all day there was no you. it didn't hurt and i didn't miss you and
i didn't want to call.
but it's late now, i guess, and it hurts now, i guess, to remember those nights where i knew it was just us. no one else. remember that?
but that changed when you picked her, that changed when you kissed her, that changed when you started visiting her town
but i bet if i was drowning you wouldn't lend me a hand like
are you glad you got out of the poems?
are you glad that's not really you?
are you glad you're so dedicated to something now?
like a priest and something holy, just like you've always wanted
something to worship that's not yourself.
so it's like i'm happy for you it's just
i'm not.
you're still in my poems. i don't think you ever left.

pukul 02.04
aku terdiam tanpa berbahasa
memikirkan sejuta hal yang seharusnya kulakukan
aku terbiasa bermimpi
namun kini aku tak mampu

pukul 02.11
andai waktu adalah lomba
maka aku selalu kalah
lagi-lagi aku tidak dapat terpejam

pukul 02.19
aku dan semua lamunanku
terhenti sejenak oleh suara dengkuran disebelahku
atau mungkin suara angin sejuk dari mesin diatasku

pukul 02.22
aku ingin berlari ke dalam lautan
menantang ombak berderu kencang
lalu terhempas dan menghilang

pukul 02.30
aku menahan air mata
berusaha mengartikan rasa
pencarian yang tak berujung
katanya tuhan itu mahakuasa
maka aku percaya jawaban itu ada
dan kupejamkan mataku
harap semua ini sirna

tuanku telah meninggal
sudah tak dapat lagi ia ucap
sajak-sajak getir perlawanan atas tuhan
apalagi senandung bintang atas kita

tuanku telah meninggal
sentuhannya dingin
tubuhnya kaku
sajaknya menjadi pisau
dan gurauannya antarkan duka

ia tetap tertawa dalam kematiannya
karena jasadnya dapat terus hidup
sebagai manusia lain
yang bagiku, entah siapa
yang bahkan tak kukenali danurnya

jika bisa
aku ingin mengembalikan tubuh itu padanya
akan kugali kuburan dalam hatinya
kutarik keluar jenazahnya dan kubangkitkan,
dalam sebuah peluk dan angan

akan kubiarkan ia merasuk
pada tubuh tak berhati, tak berjiwa itu
pada tubuh hidup gentayangan itu