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

the angel got a knife and i've got skin to spare
so we find a way to god's attention and he doesn't see
i don't understand:
who couldn't notice so much blood?
who could watch this mess and still say nothing?

i woke up missing you today
i know i shouldn't
loving you is much like addiction i'm trying to quit
but always fail miserably

i.) sink. no, not into water
or into a mattress or even into another person
sink into the spaces between
those memories that ache,
the holes where maybe there is peace
if you are the type that searches 
for that kind of thing, but really
there is only silence
and the real one looking to forget knows
silence is enough, it has to be

ii.) run away from who you were,
from the body that made all the pain
you are trying to forget, run up
the street and up the sky and up up
away from the way a body grounds you,
keeps you trapped in the things 
that want to keep you awake at night

iii.) learn to have no ears because 
yes, we have all heard of memories 
that scream, but what about
the ones that whisper?
it is incessant 
how they taunt in low, raspy voices
all of the mistakes you made
the missteps you took
and there is no way to strangle
a voice that has no mouth, no throat

iv.) just stop. it won't happen
not really 
unless there is enough time
and that is if you are lucky
to have a mind that is not clingy,
a mind that does not hold onto
every memory as though they 
are what keeps it going

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 in love, you're so in love with him
you think he must be some kind of saint,
and angel sent from heaven who tucks you in at night

you think "this is fairy tale love",
this is "there will be ballads written after us" love,
this is "there's fire in the attic and flood in the basement but i don't care because i'm with you" love

and i guess that's the problem
this is unconditional in the way
that he doesn't even need to love you back
in the same way

but you still love him, anyway,
this is still fairy tale love,
it's just the kind that ends with sleeping beauty sleeping forever
because eventually the prince does sneak out the window
eventually he stops coming back
eventually he stops trying

   -*watch out for warning signs before you run out of road

and i pray to God
that my marriage
doesn't poison my children one day
like my mother's and father's
did to me
   -*i fear it will

breathe, baby
breathe,
the world is not ending
and neither are we
no matter how much
it feels like it is

so take that, Cupid
i stitched the wound
your stupid arrow left in me
with my own hands
yes, they are shaking
but they did the job

“puisi itu hanya enak untuk ditulis, bukan dibaca”

“hah, egois sekali, terus siapa yang mau baca semua puisi yang sudah kamu tulis?”

“bukan begitu, maksudku puisi itu kan ungkapan hati penulisnya, dan ketika kita membaca puisi, kita harus selalu menebak nebak apa arti dan makna sebenar benarnya dari puisi yang kita baca. melelahkan”

“lalu apa bedanya dengan hidup? inti dari hidup juga mencari makna sebenar benarnya kan?”

“memang tidak ada bedanya, sama sama melelahkan”

and here i am again
standing down the vacant hallways
it gets me wondering
about the difference between
losing you and finding out that someone else found you
i’m tired of feeling like something you’ve misplaced
but don’t have the heart to look for anymore
i’m tired of wondering if you can tell the difference
between the absence of my voice and silence
but i learned that you can’t be the ****** weapon and be the search party
so down the vacant hallways
i just stand there in all of that quiet
like someone looking for a mistake on an eviction notice

i went on a date to forget about you
just to end up telling him about you

he said he never stopped loving me
but she was better at making you happy
and i was better at pretending
i didn't want to chug down
bottles of liquor
every time i look through your phone

these days i am so full of anguish
he looks at me
it hurts
i walk home in the pouring rain because i am a cliche and want to feel something different
anything at all
these days i take the things that i love the most and tear them apart
i create something entirely unrecognisable
everything is too real
it hurts

he doesn’t want you back
no not at all: but you are insisting
and at some point insisting is what you have left from him.
insisting is what he is considered to be. insisting is the newest shape of him.
insisting.
i know you grew older, laying in bed at 1 am thinking of calling him once again but then it hit you that he might take it lame
and i understand he was never really yours and i don’t think he ever cared
but when you’re young in love with an older boy and your heart gets shattered;
well you are too late to realize you’re the one who’s left picking up the pieces he broke you into.

i forgive you
and i'll forgive you again every morning
and again in the night before i close my eyes
and every seconds in between
but God, does it take all my guts and tears
to shake the remnants of your betrayal

this is dedicated to my new love. not you, because no i did not love you. i loved how you made me feel with my clothes off and i loved how you understand my twisted mind and i loved how you could turn a bedroom into a home. even if home was miles away and we were staying in a rented room and the room next to us just can't stay shut and you had brought so many other girls here that i could grab perfume from the air and place it on myself and compare myself to them without ever taking my eyes off of you. you never knew my favorite color and it’s blue when i know yours is every shade of green. you never knew that i hate my house or that i couldn't eat and lose so much weight while you ignored my calls. so i dedicate this to my love, my new love, because they’ll never forget my birthday and i’ll drown in them like the ocean. i hang you out to dry, i leave you on the side of the road, old love, because for many months i wasn’t even a destination for you i was just a cheap hotel for feelings.

tell me about the night
you wanted to burn the dictionary
when you couldn't find a word
that fit what it felt like the day he left

stop asking how i'm doing
because every time
i hear your name
i still got that same sting in my chest
like when you decided to leave
   -*and i know you know i will always be better when i had you by my
    side

and i could never understand
why i loved you more,
or why i loved you at all,
because you left bruises on my heart
and bruises on my skin and i forgot
the taste of your lips because i was
drowning in my tears
and love is supposed to be drowning in a
good way, not drowning in a
“oh my god there’s so much
blood” kind of way.

and i have yet to understand why
you loved her more
or why you loved her at all
because saying her name burned your throat
worse than alcohol did and she left you
with a smile on her face and
her knife in your chest but you
still crawled after her.

   -*but maybe it’s human nature to want what makes our insides turn

i write about leaving and forgetting and finally breathing at least;
but go ahead and call my poetry a liar
they were just hopeless attempt to dug you out of my skin anyway
skip several months later and now it’s been a year and we don’t even say hi
now i missed your birthday by weeks
and i wish i could turn back the time but i couldn’t
last year i was so unsure but at least i was so in love with you
i wish i could go back to those months when i thought you loved me too but i couldn’t
but i couldn’t

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

you shouldn't have asked me how i felt
or i shouldn't have lied and said "this isn't the right time"
i know i shouldn't
and now i'm thinking about it
about how i'm pushing everyone out of my life
because you broke my heart into a hundred pieces
and it took me decade to fix every slab into the other
i shouldn't have made you leave
i know i shouldn't
i heard things about bad endings
and to me it always looked like you leaving

i look at myself from distance and
i look like a stranger.
i am nothing like
i imagine myself to be.
i am not special.
i hurt people

kapan kamu mau menyadari bahwa bentuk ganda muncul karena rasa takut pada tunggal semata?
menjadi sendiri memang bisa membawa resah, terlebih ketika semua berkata ini sudah waktunya
harga diri bisa membantah, namun di dalam hati takut memang menjadi jawab untuk sebuah tanya
bila sendiri berupa satu kalut yang perlu dihindari, adakah untuk meraih tenang hanya lewat menjadi dua?
tapi kamu lupa; petapa sengaja menyepi demi bertemu tenang, biksu bisa merasa teduh walau tanpa sandingan, mereka yang khusyuk menemukan tentram dalam sujudnya yang panjang
sendiri, walau secara manusiawi
karena bersua dengan damai hanya lewat kata cukup
setelah kata cukup dipungut, menjadi sepasang bukanlah lagi sekedar penawar kalut

i slowly lose you
like the love we used to have

i slowly lose you
like the sanity i used to have

i slowly lose you
i had you by a thread

i slowly lose you
you've always had me by my neck

i’m so tired, tired of all this escaping. it reminds me of that part in all the horror movies, the ones where the characters are running for their lives; they aren’t entirely sure what it is they’re running from, they just know that it will be the death of them. i have this pit in my stomach and my brain is on fire and i cannot - for the life of me - figure out why. i don’t know what’s chasing me, i just know that i better not let it catch up. i’ve been sprinting, trying so hard to be holy, that i didn’t notice i don’t actually want to die. but I’m afraid that’s what it means to be holy. I’m going to stop running.

unless you can write a story about someone from omniscient point of view, without skewed romanticism and self-centered mystification, you don't know the person. love is never a first person narrative. you can't just say you don't remember. no, i won't let you have that postmodern indulgence, you can't be unreliable narrator.

but what are you then? the almighty author? god? those boys been long dead and gone, and i just don't know anymore where i stand, or where you stood. do you think about me ever? do you sometimes write about me? am i perfect in your memory? do you remember the smell of my perfume? will you be able to write about me, trying to pick the right shade of lipstick to wear?

this one is for you
this is my apology
it's not a haiku

i'm sorry i turned you into monster in my writings
    -*ten words poem

cara tuhan menguji ciptaannya memang ada saja
harta
takhta
kuasa
dan aku; kamu

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

jika benar
kehidupan sebelumku benar ada
ku yakin perasaanku padamu tetap cinta

jika benar
dunia paralel adalah nyata
ku yakin rasa menggebu itu tetap rindu

mencintai tanpa memiliki.
klasik, ya, apa boleh buat?
aku tak pernah menganggapmu adalah milikku, pun aku adalah milikmu.
namun rasa itu tumbuh di antara kita, tanpa satu pun yang memaksa.
aku tau kau masih memiliki seseorang dalam daftar prioritasmu, terlebih, mungkin dirinya lah yang nomor satu.
tunggu, bukan berarti aku senang dijadikan yang kesekian; lagi-lagi, apa boleh buat?
aku hanya bisa menunggu sampai sang waktu memberiku lelah yang luar biasa hingga rasa sabarku perlahan habis,
karena ku tau perasaanku takkan pernah.

i don't want magic if it's tragic
but here's another metaphor for you
i am the little match girl
and you are my every delusion
i don't like the story
but i like the way you sound over the phone
and i like to remember you in the dark
without the light to highlight the pain
just playlist full of sad songs all over again
cliche
but i want to write about our conversation
about the way you laughed
about when we stayed
before the fire unlit, before the final match burnt
remember all the things you said to me?
i stop searching where they went long time ago
because they're just reminder of how mundane you turn things into
i ran out of matches and i don't know what to do

heart pumping
sinful daydreams
you are the danger i'm getting into
to dive in
head first

May, we meet again
with the cold air starts to creep in
and familiar feelings tried to settle in
i told him
"don't make me fall if you don't plan on catching me,
i may not survive the fall this time"
i get scared and this time it's contagious
something in me is breathless, a little lost, a little more alive than i was before
May,
may we meet again

entah ekspektasi belaka atau hanya egoku
aku tidak pernah sekedar bertanya
segala tanya atau tidak kutulis itu tulus
karena aku tumbuh dengan menghargai

aku bisa jadi salah
kupu - kupu menggeliat di perutku sempat hilang
namun, di koridor gelap itu
mengapa mereka datang lagi

i found heaven;
between the pauses of his drunk voice at 1 AM
and when his finger travel down my spine
i found hell in the morning;
he’s only ever mine when his other girls are asleep
i found hell in his wandering eyes in other girls’ lips, neck, eyes
i found hell in boundaries,
i found hell in convincing myself he never love me.

i found heaven in loving him
i found hell in having to leave first

whatever we have done, love
i think we should
do it all over again
until we can't tell
which is the sin
which is the absolution

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.

do you believe him again
when he crawls through your phone
tries to convince you so bad
that he needs you

do you believe him again
open up your heart
scoop out the pain
carve him deep into you

and when you believe him again
how much are you lying to yourself
when you know what he'll do
but you do believe him
because he means everything to you

bagaimana kau masih bisa percaya
waktu itu berjalan maju
jika engkau dapat dengan mudah mematahkan detik-detiknya
dan kenangan adalah salah satu kemunduran
yang kita percayai sebagai sebuah kemajuan?

this is the part of the story
where i think of
all the erased words and all
of the things i haven't said
and the fairest thing i can think to do
is to always let you know
where my heart is

   -*you, you, you

how do you live with a mother whose idea of love is burning down bridges and then burning the ashes? how do you live in her house, constantly awaiting her next episode, staring at your bedroom door and waiting for her to burst through it? you go days without eating because you’re terrified to get out of your room and you hope that this will help you shrink small enough to fit into your childhood hiding spots - all the places she’d never think to look. you cut your wrists, hips, thighs, any parts of your unloved skin that you can reach in hopes it will slow your breathing down before she hears you panicking - she’s already reminded you once today that there is no room for weakness in her house. you smell burning again and get ready to bid farewell to another bridge, another memory, another part of your relationship that you’ll never see again. you’re not as bothered as you should be because in all honesty, there wasn’t really a relationship or a bridge to begin with.

it's not that i meant to break your heart
it's just that some days i wake up and i can't feel anything
towards anything nor anyone
and i promise that hurts me too

i remember that night in flashbacks.
like a movie.
i slowly drowned in a river and my body wasn’t found until the sun hit my shining smile where people miles away could see it,
because even though you killed me i was happy it was you.
if i got to die it was privilege that you were the one who did it.
you made it quick
you held your breath in and you spoke about the future and how much you loved the color grey but never about how much you liked me,
and you breathed it out like it was the only sentence you knew
“i don’t, and i don't think i can feel the same about you.”
and i flatlined in your bedroom.

you say "i love you"
but i can hear your lies through the cracks in your voice
lights always find it's way through things that are broken
but this doesn't make me feel warm
it makes me feel cold
like a breeze is blowing through a hole in my chest
where my heart supposed to be
i see how your eyes wander
and how you won't meet my gaze anymore
i see how you don't love me
i'm not sure how to put us back together
when we're in this many pieces
but in complete honesty
i don't think i want to

"percayalah kita hanya ujian bagi diri masing-masing. tuhan hanya ingin tahu kita lebih mencintai penciptanya atau ciptaannya"

"hanya ujian?  sekali pun aku tidak pernah melihatmu sebagai ujian"

"... maaf"

i’m stop signs. quick, 1, 2, 3, go. i’m the rest stop when you’re almost to your destination, stop here find what you’re really looking for and realize it isn’t and won’t ever be me. i’m yellow lights that people run through and the fast lane on highways. i’m the person people look at and say i’ll take what they’ll give me and give nothing in return. i’m never the final stop. i’m the person who writes their number down for you and then you lose the paper in your least liked pair of pants but you don’t mind because they were never your favorite anyways. i am never the favorite anyways. i think about how i could make myself more likeable, turn myself from a hotel stop or train station into a skyscraper with a hard base and concrete flooring but then i remember no one would stay even if i begged them to. no one would stay even if i could force them to. and that's why i stopped begging and forcing and clawing. i am never the one people remember or the one people want. i’m forever meant to be the stepping stone for people to realize what they really want out of life. and it’s never me.