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

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

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

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

Kita pernah ada di suatu masa dimana rindu merupakan hal yang merapuhkan, sekaligus menguatkan di saat yang bersamaan

Kita pernah ada di suatu masa dimana hari-hari terisi oleh caci maki dan argumentasi—yang kini kusadari lebih baik mendengar suara ketusmu ketimbang tidak sama sekali

Perihal mimpi-mimpi, janji, serta harapan yang kandas di tengah jalan, aku turut berdukacita karenanya

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

Never thought I'd listen to Kodaline,
as I walk down the Memory Lane

Oh, Clementine
For when I was with you I've always been sane
You said you'd be at nine
But since you were no longer mine,
I spent all night with you in my mind
And glasses of champagne on my hand

Oh, Clementine
It's hard for me even to draw a line
Letting you go costs insanity I can't define
With countless loss of dopamine
But I guess if you're fine
I'd do my best not to intervene

Oh, Clementine
February 14th you're no longer my Valentine
Driving through the sreets I ran out of gasoline
But the time is due and I've come to the deadline
While sighing 'I'm done'
I know it's time for me to be gone

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

For his heart is
as cold as
the Winter weather

and she was born
in Summer

Dear little fighter,
I know you are suffering, struggling, and battled over,
I know how badly you wanted to get out of the maze,
The maze or the mess—neither does you a favor

Dear little fighter,
Never lose your hope no matter how dark the tunnel might be sometimes
Never lose that little faith in your heart that soon things will be brighter
Scream your heart out loud or in silence if it makes you feel at ease

Dear little fighter,
I'm not gonna say that everything is going to be okay,
I'm not gonna say that you will figure things out right away,
But I promise you there will be better days coming your way

Dear little fighter,
You are more than your war nor your pain
You are enough, and no one shall tell you otherwise!
There's a great warrior within you that collapses even The Great Wall

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?

I was the anchor to your voyage
—and you were the poison for my heart

Romantis ya?

"Apa?"

Senja.

"Apanya yang romantis?"

Dia yang paling banyak berkorban daripada Siang dan Malam—Senja itu. Hadirnya sesaat, cuma sebagai peralihan dari Siang ke Malam. Dia sadar kalau dia luar biasa indah, tapi dia nggak egois.

"Nggak egois bagaimana?"

Iya, kalau dia egois, dia nggak akan mengalah pada Malam. Dia bakal minta waktu lebih lama sama Yang Punya Semesta untuk memamerkan keindahannya, tapi nyatanya enggak. Dia merelakan hadirnya cuma sesaat, dan memilih untuk mengalah atas keegoisan Malam yang ingin mencumbu Pagi.

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

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

Kurasa lebih baik begini; sama-sama melupa dan melaju

Karena melihat bagian darimu yang muncul dimana-mana—di pertigaan jalan, di kemacetan berkilo-kilometer yang menyiksa, di sudut kota yang hiruk pikuk, di sela-sela tugas yang menumpuk, di setiap lagu-lagu pengantar tidur—tidak adil rasanya kau masih juga muncul di pikiranku

Seolah-olah sebagian dari egomu ingin berteriak kalau kau masih ada; bahwa aku tidak boleh bernafas bebas tanpa menghirup aroma tubuhmu

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

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

She disinterested in small talks outside the park
Instead, she craves for late-night confessions
sparing chapters in life that you both don't read out loud

She doesn't favor going to a fancy anniversary dinner
Instead, she thrives for adventures and long road-trip journey
without any maps or compass just so you can get lost together

She hates pop music everyone is singing along on radio
Instead, she's crazy about folks and indie no one heard before
and you will find a lot of vinyls in her room instead of discs

She doesn't want drizzle or light breeze
Instead, she wants a ******* hurricane and tsunami
that will wreck her apart and drown her soul

She's a mess
She wakes up at noon with eyebags all around her face
And in her markings you'll find unreachable desires, hope, and wishes

She's a hurricane
She has millions of chaotic galaxies of thoughts
And in her mind you'll find thousands of tangled up worlds of words and places

But she's a masterpiece
She makes your brain explodes while it wanders to travel her body
And in her company you'll find how life imitates art—long before art imitates life

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?

Maybe home,
is not a place
not even a person
but instead a feeling

It is a feeling where you can finally
adapt to your society and
be comfortable to walk in your skin
without being afraid or scared anymore

And now I'm homesick

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

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

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.

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

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?

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

Intimacy is not measured

by how passionate you kiss her, or
by how loud you say you love her, or
by how your hands fit hers perfectly, or
by how many bouquets you bring for her

Intimacy is when
your souls intertwined one another
that even silence,
doesn't make her feel anxiety

Intimacy is when
your thoughts connect to each other
that even before you speak,
she already knows

And if you are lucky enough,
that connection will last a lifetime
that no measure of time or space
could come between two affiliated souls

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I couldn’t help myself but longing for your existence
It felt strange to have my body wrapped and my back rubbed by someone that is not you
It felt unfamiliar not to hear you talk about the weather and the sky after you question my day
It felt odd to feel the stain of coffee left on his lips—because it ain’t the one you used to sip

I couldn’t help myself but wonder about the probability of us
Tell me that being stucked in traffic jam doesn’t make you wish you were spending it with me
Tell me that your feet don’t dance to Ella Fitzgerald and suddenly missing the tip of my toes on top of them
Tell me that when you look at her face, you don’t search even an ounce of my warmth there

I couldn't help myself but pleading for your mercy
Forgive me that I almost forget the way your laughter sounds or the way you sigh when you feel hopeless;
or the transition in your voice when you get mad but choose not to show it
or how your fingers fit the spaces between mine perfectly—and God, do I miss them

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