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Hamzah 1d
I hate repetition

Falling in love with someone
Seeing them
Skipping my heart a beat
Having butterfly in my stomach

I hate repetition

Falling in love with someone
Trying to get to know them
Communicating through chat
Talking to them with awkward pitch

I hate repetition

Falling in love with someone
Wanting them
Needing them so bad
Getting attached

I hate repetition

Falling in love with someone
Loving them
Loving them everyday and night
Loving them like a stitch

I hate repetition

Falling in love with someone
Trying hard to not hurt them
Extinguishing the spark
Ditching or being ditched

I hate repetition
Loving them
Loving them
Loving them

I hate repetition
Hurting them
Hurting them
Hurting them

I hate repetition
Being broken
Being broken
Being broken

I hate repetition
I hate repetition
I hate repetition
I hate repetition

I hate repetition
I ******* hate it.
Hamzah 1d
I was once complete.
All axioms fulfilled.
All operators well-defined.
All systems consistent.

Although,
Subtracting a set by itself,
Creates
A null set.

I was once complete.
All axioms fulfilled.
All operators well-defined.
All systems consistent.

Although,
Adding a null set
To another set
Changes nothing.

I was once complete.
All axioms fulfilled.
All operators well-defined.
All systems consistent.

Although,
The completeness
Is not from myself.
It's not premade.

We were once complete.
All axioms fulfilled.
All operators well-defined.
All systems consistent.

Although,
The completeness
Has gone.
Thus, i am a null set.
Hamzah 3d
That pattern
Occurs periodically.
Despite all the vern
I still hurt myself regularly.

Those ricocheting projectiles
Travel uncontrollably.
Hitting them who smiles
Wounding them miserably.

This is not a sanctuary
Not a place to survive.
This is a void, where no one can hear me.
Screaming, "Help! I'm eating myself alive."
Hamzah 4d
Left to right got you.
Now read it from right to left
Hamzah 4d
This room is somehow mine.
Though, i don't feel like where i belong.

This room, is empty. Just a single bed that doesn't remind me of anything.
I wish memory works as easy as opening up files from old computer. Most of the time, it doesn't.
It doesn't work when i needed them. But, it will probably work, it will probably work when we are about to shut our brain down.

This room, is so isolated. Things that are actually there, dispersed. Slowly vanished into thin air and left me with my own thoughts.
Things that are actually there, weren't even there at all. Not even the air i breathe. I slowly choked, by the so-called void. Because all the things that are supposed to be there, are not there at all. But in the next morning, they are there. Especially, the baggage i've been carrying around that sometimes drive me nuts. They were all there, right next to the photos i wish i never threw away.  

This room, is red. The blanket is red. This soft blanket that somehow won't recall any memories. Old sweater hanging in between new ones. Even a thing called memento doesn't work. It won't work, because memory never works that way.
Memory never works. You keep putting your favourite pair of socks in the place you sure you will notice and you will remember, you did put it there.

Yes, You did put it there so you don't have to waste your time finding it, you did put it there so you just wear it whenever you want or whenever you need to, you did put it there so you don't have to lose them, you did put it there because it's the 8th times you lost your favourite socks this month. Deep down, you are convinced, you did put it there. You did, because you pretty sure you'll need it.

But look at you now, marching around the room, barefoot, cluttering things out from its place, searching, thinking, remembering, contemplating, "Where the **** did i put it?!", Feel stupid, sometimes crying, trying so hard to stay sane, angry, subconsciously banging your head into the wall for no reason, keeping yourself away from sharp things because they might hurt you, reading old poems out loud so you don't have to read it twice, burying your face into the pillow, screaming, wiping out tears, falling asleep and waking up.
Realising that you will never find it.
Accepting that you lost it for good.
It's never about socks, isn't it?
Hamzah 4d
Is waking up,
Reality is ****** up.
Hamzah 4d
I don't know since when you chose to leave.
What i already know is that you never accept me anyway.
But there was time when you make me feel my presence.
Not just that, but also my existence.
That one beautiful moment for me who keep coming back to you.
Or maybe i never really come into your life.
But it's okay, life is full of confusion anyway.

There are so many words i'd like to say.
But i know you'll laugh at it all the way.
Because maybe you think i'm a joker and you're one of my masterpiece.
I don't know why god made it this way.
Like a beautiful rose that filled with thorns.

It's the third time for me to let you go.
But saying "goodbye" for me is just another "hello".
Like we usually do.
Like we did it now.
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