step #1:

you gotta put that blade down
wash your hands, away from
the blood of your past
and misery. stop trying
to stand up immediately, you
gotta sit down and inhale exhale inhale exhale inhale exhale inhale exhale.

step #2:

and now that you begin to heal,
you can stand up and look at yourself
in the mirror, and whisper to
yourself, "it's okay, it's alright, it's okay, it's alright, it's okay, it's alright, it's okay" —
until you can fake a smile again,
until your tears have disappeared.

third step:

stop reminding yourself about that one time you refused to talk to your aunt and then she died the next few days,
it wasn't your fault, you didn't **** her.
i've known shame my whole life,
that i learned to put away everything
until one day i accidentally opened the drawer, then
i have to start over.

she's not living life
she's not having fun
all of her dreams have shattered
left her with a void too big to fill in.

she has stopped running
she's not laughing anymore
all of her songs can't comfort her no more.
they just remind her how lonely she actually is.

she's planning her own death
she's writing the goodbye notes
hoping that her friends won't be upset
knowing they could never help her, anyway.

she's living life
she's having fun
in her own terms
thinking of the final day
waiting for everything to end.

what to do
when everything's seem to against you?
your mother stop calling you 'sweetheart'
and you almost forget where your father was buried.

what to do
when the God is calling you
to unfold the praying mat
"cry to me", He probably said
but you don't know all of the words
and you're too shamed to ask others
how to return to your Creator.

what to do
when you have no idea what you're doing?
all seems bleak and dark
and nothing is going to be okay anymore
but you go on and live, anyway.

how many times,
i wonder —
should we wake up to the news
of hundreds innocent lives, gone
too many names to be mentioned one by one.

how many more of thoughts and prayers,
before they all call it quit
and go home to hug their own children and have a meal, together,
on a dining table?
why —
choose to **** when we can spread love instead?

but this is just my naivety speaking
i know very well that this is gonna happen again and again
until we couldn't see the soil without the blood, no more
until we have hung all of our beloved ones' pictures up, trying so hard to remember their faces
the devils are taking lives, as if it's sort of video games
and we all know for sure that there's no winner in this one
but death.

walk, keep walking
don't stop, don't turn around
look forwards for the possible lives
that you could live
and pay homage to your old self.

run, keep running
don't hesitate, don't turn back
look ahead for more and more
that you could have
that you could be.

sing, don't stop singing
don't be sad, don't turn all mellow
look around for your own rhythm
that could serenade your soul
and make you whole again.

i still remember the tune to one of my late dad's favourite songs
the lyrics go like this:
"berkorban apa saja/harta atau pun nyawa/itulah kasih mesra/sejati dan mulia."
it reminds me of that time when i was barely ten
where i had to watch him folking out money
to pay for my school's annual fee
and when i begged him for a new pair of sneakers
he told me to study hard so one day i could buy whatever i want.

my younger brother and i used to keep picking a fight with each other
we yelled, we punched
but now we barely talk
and we only meet up once a year.

i was nineteen when i started to live on my own
my mother refused to let me go at first
but she could not decide between me and her new husband
i didn't fully blame her because she wanted happiness and she got it
but at what cost?
i wish i could understand how that works one day.

i'm a twenty-three years old hopeless dreamer,
i find myself reborn every time i watch people in motion pictures
i keep a list of what i want to do if i don't have any restrictions
and one of the top is to live in a foreign city
i want to feel reborn for real
taste the new air as if it's promising a new beginning and a possible love
one day, i will be one of those in the motions pictures.

i'm a walking metaphor;
my body is the epitome of everything's wrong in my life
i count my self-esteem in how many dresses i have to try before i find the one that suits me
and it will always end up shrinking
and shrinking until all of my leftover self-worth disappear
i take too much space
and i wear too many layers to make me less visible
so that no eyes will linger on me
and blame me for being too much and too
and too and too
everything's too much
don't i wish to be invisible for real?
yes, i do
i keep playing 'empty room' by arcade fire
too many times
that the lyrics fill the void in me
and make me feeling a lot, and better
well, i know this body will end up in six-feet under
so please don't remind me to embrace it
because i really can't help but to hate it
and no ma'am, i can't fake it at all
i pray the ground will swallow me whole.