'though time was brief—your light was vast
your presence lingers; your memory stays
in the warmth of my hand, where I brushed you off my fingers

in the softest light of fading days,
unconditional, unexpected, true,
grief may weigh, but love won’t bend

pay me a visit through my dreams
play with me as I will feed you your favorite treats
tell me about the rainbow bridge

a love unplanned, in fur and bones
you have brought us so much joy
Yet in the silence, sometimes I would hear your bell as you walked by

though tough decisions;
more ofthen than not
i question & constantly challenge myself

is this what you seek in life?
are the hardships you endure reflect growth—
or is it just you forcing against the universe?

notice how your surroundings revolve,
take part in what you believe in;
do you receive the sign you are looking for?
does it speak to you?

all my life i believe
i have always been guided
towards where i am meant to be

so my answer to all of that is yes
have faith; be patience
you will get there

in French they don't say "i miss you"
but rather "tu me manques"
or "you are missing from me"

so tell me,
was it your presence that is missing?
was it your warmth against mine?

there is this big void in my heart
waiting to be filled
it longs for your shadow

here we are

looking at grief in the eyes
sitting side by side with the pain
without it we won’t be standing still,
firmly; and as resilience; as tough;
as brave as we are right now

somehow deep down, we knew
when the strom was going to hit us,
and perhaps we didn’t remember
how we managed it through;
how we managed to survive

at last,

we made it to the shore
though in crumble and collapse
the storm don’t last forever;
it's over in the end

give me your hands
take mine in yours
let me trace the lines of your palms
let me feel them against my own

for some souls are never strangers to begin with
and if many lifetimes do exist
i will ask for you in each of one
i'd pray to find you then—through them all

but if perhaps not in this life,
i hope you'd stumble upon a heart
that resembles yours

growing up feels like i turned five two days ago
i've been fifteen for years
wasn't i twenty just a few weeks ago?
all my friends and i are still ten
the week is going by so slow
an entire year has passed

this year i'm turning 25; tomorrow is 30

i hope i remember to breathe

We were tiptoeing
all the way to the kitchen
sneaking out like we used to
thousand of days before

The lights went off
he pulled me into his arms
all I can hear was his breathe
and his beating heart

Through his gaze;
I felt his warmth
Through his embrace;
I felt his longing

It’s almost as if
I can hear he said;
“welcome home”
without a word

It’s almost as if
all the goodbyes
were coming back
all at once

I took the long way back home
Wishing the noise would draw me away
Wishing the time would let you slip from memory

I went to places we used to sip our coffee
Everything is distorted as if time didn’t exist
Everything is surreal as if we were never there

I talk to people to keep me sane
All I felt was a small mouthful of nonsense
All I felt was longing for the warmth of your skin

Like the calm before the storm
Like the silence before the tsunami
Like the feeling when russian roulette spins
Like a rollercoaster after it touches the sky
Like a sandcastle when the tide is coming
Like a house of cards—
We’re in constant danger of collapse

In another life, meet me again

In another life, let’s try it one more time
Make me fall in love with you again

In another life, at the very least
We could say that we didn’t give up
We could say that we’d take a bullet for each other—even if we’re bleeding to death

So maybe, just maybe
Life would be a little kinder to us
Maybe life would let us be together that time

On one Summer day
a girl was wearing her heart
on her sleeves

She planted her gardens;
watered them sincerely
day by day

With each day goes by,
some people sneak a peek
into her blossoming flowers

Yet, no one bothers
to step even further
beyond the facade

She couldn’t help but wonder
why do people tend to admire
the beauty from the outside?

While the true beauty,
lies from within—
as it’s never about what it seems

And she thought,
even when her garden is flawed
it is at least, well taken care of

Substance over form
depth over surface

Layers by layers—
see me raw

I. Intro

"I'm as afraid; as exposed; as vulnerable, as you are right now," I remember saying it on the day you were born.

Falling in love scares me to death, yet I'm so glad I kept it open. It’s probably one of the bravest thing one could do—fully aware you are walking on eggshells and you could have your heart torn into pieces.

I guess love is the hope you feel in your chest when you meet someone and you just know, in a bizarre and all-consuming way, that they are going to mean a lot to you, that you are going to clear a little corner of your soul out for them.

Love is a mess—yes, but my God, is it ever a beautiful one.

//

II. Interlude

I still remember the day I met you for the first time again after 10 years passed by. You smiled at me that day, and the way you called me by my childhood name sounds so familiar—it is almost as if it never left your lips. You spell it fluently as if you recite it every day until the day we’d finally meet again.

“You were my first love,” you whispered to me tenderly, as I replied the very same to you.

Like a fairytale told in every classic stories, you came into my life out of thin air. I should’ve known by then that if something was too good to be true, it’s probably not true—or perhaps I was too naive to admit.

//

III. Encore

“We were in love and we were happy,” is the sentence I repeatedly mumbled to you as I hold back the scream off my lungs.

With all the sweet nothing, betrayal was something I did not see coming.

In the end, love alone is not enough.

You broke my heart when all I did was loving you.

I sip my morning coffee religiously
but lately my two shots doesn't feel
as bitter as it used to be

Perhaps that's the thing about life;
you get used to bitterness so much that
you can no longer distinguish which one is which
since everything tastes all the same

Or perhaps, the thought of you crossed my mind
and all the pain suddenly comes rushing back
as if I am being tormented for the sins I didn't commit

My wounds are burning; they’re still half-open
almost to the point it's unbearable for me to mend
had I known the bruise would left me scars this deep
I would have walked the opposite direction that day

In the end,
You betrayed us and my trust
Your hypocrisy only goes so far
with each lies slowly unraveled

Perhaps,
You didn’t love me at all
You love the idea of loving me
You thought you knew what love was

To me,
Love is never a phrase
It’s always been a verb

Opportunity knocks you once
but certainly not twice

So this is it—the final closure
of what I would forever call
an almost;
a road not taken
a missed connection;
a wasted second chance;

We may have everything
but never time

I wish one day
I'd be lucky enough
to meet someone
who speaks my language
so I don't have to spend
a lifetime
translating my soul

The clock is ticking

Time is fleeting before my eyes

It almost feels like
all these moments
turned into memories
in a blink of an eye

Oh, dear Time

Please, please, please
slow down a little bit
freeze if you would

Please, please, please
I'm started to lose grips
of everyone; everything

Dear Grandma and Grandpa,

How's the Earth looking from up there?
I bet you wouldn't even bother about the livings anymore,
I bet you couldn't wait for the Heaven; the eternity

Dear Grandma and Grandpa,

Forgive me,
For every time I see a butterfly perched on my window I always thought that was you missing me
Forgive me,
For every time I see a cat around the backyard I always thought that was you visiting and checking up on me

Dear Grandma and Grandpa,

Now I'm at peace, realizing that you are free from any physical pains;
As you are no longer burdened by your glaucoma or sudden heart attack
As your fragile skins won't have to be bruised when you coincidentally knocked on the table
As you won't have to feel headache each time you're overwhelmed by the thoughts of your family

Dear Grandma and Grandpa,

Still, it doesn't feel right for my brain to comprehend that
My childrens won't ever get to hear the warmth of your voices;
Tasting the overburnt eggs and noodles you used to make;
Watching your favorite old movies in the afternoon;
Playing with the wrinkles on your hands;
or making fun of your white hair

Dear Grandma and Grandpa,

I know you will never know about this
But I'm down on my knees
Silently pray inbetween the night and the dawn;
So that the angels will not be too harsh on you
In hereafter

& so i fill,
i fill,
i fill;
every void
every space
every hollow
with my own
until it’s spilled
& reach the edges
until it’s full enough
that it doesn’t require
anyone else—but myself

Why do humans tend to appreciate life
when it feels like they are losing their grips?

As the wind unwinds the surface
The Savanna nods to The Shepherd gently
yet every steps he took left deeply-rooted footprints

He carelessly steps on her wildflowers,
and while he rest, he'd pluck some of hers
deep down he knows he's in dead end

The Savanna couldn't help her curiosity,
so she asked where is he heading off
and why he tossed his compass halfway to the ground

On the spur of a moment, The Shepherd fainted
his throat choked; like he wasn't allowed to say a word
little did The Savanna knows he was cursed

"I am no use of you," said The Shepherd.
"I am cursed to walk on my path with me alone;
I am cursed to left my soul in every steps I took
I am cursed to get lost in the midst of unknown!"

The Savanna embraces him tenderly
'tho every time he bawls out and enraged
for countless time she failed but she's persistent

"Let me take care of you," insists The Savanna
"Until your broken compass works again;
until you know where you are heading towards
—until then, let me help you."

And just like that,
The Shepherd found within her
his long-time quest; his very own oasis in the desert

I have written poetries
for as many as I could remember
for people I once loved before
and those who came before you
I used to think that
it's a tribute to turn them into poetries
since I couldn't have them anymore
any other way in my life

At least, I think to myself
I could find a piece of them
inbetween spaces in my poetries
whenever my heart longs for them

Now that I met you
my arms are shaking, trembling
for I couldn't imagine there comes a day
I'd write something about you
because for once after a long journey
I'd give up everything
to turn something as beautiful as poetry
into reality; that is you

My dear,
the scars in your body is a map and a living proof
of how far you've gone and how you survived
despite every madness and chaos that restrain you

And just like waves;
this too shall pass

"Do you believe in love?"

she shook her head.

"Well, you know what love does to people—destruction," she whispered quietly.

his astonished eyes stared at her with wonder and confusion.

"Being in love means you'd be willing to sacrifice and risk everything for it; or even worse, fight against anything that against it. All my life, I only witnessed the kind of love that ruin one another."

"Look at Bonnie and Clyde. Look at ******'s love for his Arya race. Look at Confessions of a Shopaholic. Look at Gollum. There's a thin line between obsession and love, and sometimes you can't tell which one is which."

her eyes looked far across the city; as if she was longing for something. perhaps, he thought, it's true that woman is an open book, it's just most men don't read and it's written in ancient Greek.

"But how about your Mom? How about the owner of animal shelter? How about the Environmentalist? How about the firefighters and crisis call center officers?" he responded.

and in that very moment, she knew she was in safe hands.

Your heart is an empty auditorium
during business hours
where everyone's too busy
to even see a play

It’s quiet, silent, and hollow,
like the cemetery at 3 a.m
and you will be frightened
by its silence

But as it heals,
the empty room will become
a hallway full of people
and it will foster

Until the emptiness turned into a parade
where broken parts march back
towards the eternal void,
and fill up the spaces

In this ocean of probabilities and uncertainties,
it's not death that I am most afraid of
since death is the only thing that is certain
yet, it's life and to be alive

In death, you only have one possibility
your nonexistent; an eternal darkness
of which light could never reach again,
even your loudest scream sounds like a long silence

In life, every steps taken create alternate endings,
perhaps sometimes you made the right choices
but when it comes that you didn't, it will haunt you
for the rest of your life that you'd start to wonder;

"what happened if you'd only brave enough to take the risk?"
"what's on the other side of the roads you didn't take?"
"what are the opportunities that you have missed?"
"what if what you thought was right, wasn't?"

Thus live, instead of just being exist and present
worry not of your demise, but every seconds you spent
for life and death is only as thin as a thread;
make sure it is worth your while

There are glory and victory in every battles
Yet there are more bleeding and suffering
Glory doesn’t bring back the dead to the living
Victory heals neither scars nor wound, let alone fixing the broken ribs

There are villains and heroines in every war
Yet there are more desolation and devastation
Villains are written in history by the side who wins
Heroines are what they call themselves after slaughtering the innocent

There are rebellion and revolution in every regime
Yet there are more poverty and misery
Rebellion is done by fewer people against jeopardy
Revolution is an act of people power against oppresive authority

My dear sister, I’m sorry I wasn’t there
When they call you names and harass your crown on the street
When they tell you what you should or shouldn’t do with your body

My dear sister, I’m sorry I wasn’t there
When they pluck your honey against your will yet they tell them you enjoy it
When they touch your skin yet they left it bleeding and bruised

My dear sister, I’m sorry I wasn’t there
When they want you to cover your scars and pimples because they don’t meet the “beauty” standards
When they forcibly ask you to shave your hair because it doesn’t potray cleanliness and hygiene

My dear sister, I’m sorry I wasn’t there
When your rose is blooming and the moon is come but they show you their cold shoulders
When they make fun of your shape and laugh it off but they refuse to make a clean breast of it as an insult

Thus rise, dear sister
—for your pain is mine to carry
—for your wound is mine to mend
—for your war is mine to fight

My mother never gave birth to a girl
Neither did her and my father ever raise a daughter
Yet, they raised a wolf—wild, fearless, strong, and resilient

They told me to howl at everything I found misfit;
to bark as a warning sign,
to riot as an act of resistance

The dust is so lucky,
It gets to touch your sun-kissed skin and
caress your crimson hair that carries Summer memories

The sun is so lucky,
It gets to feel the warmth of your smile every morning
when you read your newspaper like it’s your breakfast

The moon is so lucky,
It gets to have your company every night when you dance to Frank Sinatra and having a glass full of bad wine

The stars are so lucky,
They get to feel your heartbeat echoes
while you were dreaming of some far away places

The galaxy is so lucky,
It gets to see its reflection through your eyes;
so crystal clear that it confuse the constellation

The whole universe is lucky
—but me

Pada akhirnya, yang mengerti
adalah bayangan dan diri sendiri
Sementara orang lain mati,
pergi tanpa sempat kembali

Pada akhirnya, yang berkeras hati
adalah jantung yang menolak berhenti
Sementara kaki mulai lelah berlari,
meraung ingin menyudahi

Pada akhirnya, yang abadi
adalah sunyi dan sepi
Sementara mimpi-mimpi,
hilang tergerus tanpa arti

Come closer,

What do you see?

Look deeper,
There's more of her than what meets the eye
She might spell queen on her tongue
She might blind people with her glance
But don't believe anything you see

Explore further,
There's more to her soul than the physical shape
She might wear fire on her skin
She might imply strong on her wrist
But don't believe anything you touch

I think those who are in love on this era is cursed,
not that their love is delusional nor artificial
But because their manisfestation of love is perceived
by how society visualizes and defines it

We think someone genuinely love us because
they upload hundreds of photos of us
We think someone sincerely love us because
they write essay competition-worthy captions
We think someone truly love us because
they praise us at all of our selfie posts

To me, love is listening to a music
and suddenly it reminds you of them
To me, love is reading a good book
and suddenly wants them to read it as well
To me, love is when winter comes and all you ever think is whether they wear their warm clothes
To me, love is when the night comes and all you think of is how his day was

Well, then again, Chbosky once said that
"we accept the love we think we deserve"
And maybe we don't get to choose the way we love
or the way we want to be loved
Simply because we think it's the kind of love
that deserves us

Every corner on this earth
feels like war zone

Every mouth of the people
tastes like revenge

How do we find peace
in this midst of chaos?

The worst thing about losing someone to death is that
you didn't actually get that chance to pay your farewell

When they leave,
they just left

Suddenly, their brain refused to consume the oxygen,
their heart refused to pump the blood to the veins
It was almost felt like all those organs and cells had conspired together and finally come to their final conclusion

There will be days when you feel like grieving
and mourning over them are as normal as breathing

And it's okay,
it's okay

No one will ever get over death of loved ones easily
mostly because the "what if"s and "if only"s that follows,
Because the most painful goodbye
is the ones that never got the chance to be said

Strangely, your existence feels familiar
I think I've seen your face somewhere,
or was it your voice that I heard?
or was it your skin that I touched?

Are you sure this is our first meeting?
I'm not quite sure, though, but if it is,
why do I feel like my soul has known you forever?
why do I feel like my heart has been longing for you?

Well, I can't help but wonder,
when your deep brown eyes met mine anxiously
when your tongue spelled my name fluently
do you, by any chance, recognize me too?

Darling, who ever told you that home is made out of bricks?
Home is whenever your heart feel at ease and be at peace
Home is whenever you go to places and in love with the streets
Home is whenever you listen to the music and jam to its rhythm

This two-story building made out of bricks,
is a place that shouldn't be burden off your shoulders
is a place that should you reminisce in joy instead of grief
is a place that should be a sanctuary rather than asylum

Darling, who ever told you that home is made out of bricks?
Home is whose eyes were jet black with a heartbeat
Home is whose smirks feel like summer in winter days
Home is whose touch melts away even the toughest iceberg

"Well", you said, "this two-story building made out of bricks,
is a place where I hear more yelling than laughter
is a place where my dreams died and buried deep
is a place where I used to shamelessly call as home

I was thousand kilometers away from you,
when a stranger bumped into me
he asked me where I was heading off
he asked me if I'm lost by the dead end

I remember answering that nothing to worry,
as I used to go solo and travel alone
'though he offered me help, I refused
it's the kind of kindness I can never repay

Years passed by until it comes to my senses,
how could I ever grasp his helping hand
while your fingerprints are still all over my skin?
while your voice still resonates down to my toes?

Youth was all we ever had, and
no matter how far I've come to walk away
every time I wander it goes directly to you
—I am running in circle

i.
Some say that before you breathe your last breath,
all your life will flash before your eyes
so tell me, what kind of life you'd want to have?

ii.
Some say that having your heart broken is like
having your flash ripped and your bones fractured
so tell me, will you regret to have fallen in the first place?

iii.
Some say that when you miss a dead person,
the Heavens will let your voice be heard
so tell me, what are the words you are going to say?

Her soul is tired now
and all she ever wanted to do was
calming her crowded mind
and resting her heavy heart

Her soul is tired now
and the only path she’d go through
was no longer runaway full of eyes
but an empty and quiet hallways

Her soul is tired now
and the dreams are no longer dreams,
they became possessions and hunger
that consumes her alive

Her soul is tired now
as the passion slowly fades away
and the flame in her eyes began to vanish
can’t you feel the absence of her warmth?

Afraid not of mistakes,
but a chance not taken

Afraid not of aging,
but a youth spent wasted

Afraid not of death,
but a life unlived

She has lost count on how many nights she spent alone,
spoiling her thoughts while sipping her whiskey at the balcony
looking at the stars and the moon with intimate longing,
and wishing to be one of them as if she was one, once

They say that to live is the rarest thing in the world,
as for her, life is always a puzzle with one missing piece,
an endless labyrinth with no way out, let alone the dead end
an unsolved riddles with no absolute clues, let alone the answer

Sometimes at times like tonight, she'd let her mind wander
to streets she has never walked before and people she has never met,
with language she barely understands nor familiar with,
thinking maybe solitude is not a bliss after all—it's an agony