We create
new histories everyday,
but we also
create
new atrocities everyday.
At least
that’s what you
indirectly told me when
I was stuck in between
the convergence of
the black hole sun.

To be frank,
once in a while I
would expect you
to wonder who actually
I am
and I would also
wait for
you to ask
me things
in order to get
to know me better.
But
you
never
did.
Let alone to remember that we once met years ago.
I guess I expected too much.

(([Lowkey] I honestly want you to wonder, “who’s this mysterious girl-next-door who recently had just moved in?” at least once.))

((Maybe one day you will. Maybe one day you will wonder about me and approach me and ask me stuff. At the time when it’s too late and I don’t care about you anymore.))

The convoluted
conundrum that
I must solve here
is about how
some people want
peace and justice
so bad but they
do the opposite of
what they’re supposed
to do in order
to reach those
two things.
I guess it made me
conclude,
maybe peace
has never really
existed after all.
Peace is probably
just a delusional
misconception
construed by
idealists who
still have glimpses
of hope.
And I am not
one of those
idealists.

I am
that one kid
who has always
wanted to
run away to
somewhere unreachable
by everyone
I know
or to dissolve
all the remaining
memories I
have.

(I’m lying if I say I don’t want you to love me. I’m lying if I say I’m alright this way. I’m lying if I say I’m fine with not running away. I’m lying if I say I don’t want to resurrect into a whole new person and create a whole new world with a whole new surrounding.)

The only time
I thought you
cared was
years ago
when we were still
strangers
(I think we still are)
and we sat
by the creek that time;
you told me
the only thing that
mattered;
the only thing
that I would forever remember;
deep in my
earnest
mind.

“All those hegemonies and authoritative institutions, I think you don’t need them. They’d hurt you even more. You don’t need to go to that communal institution called school, nor to conform to the heinous dogmas of the uncultured swines around you — they’d keep making you feel like a misfit who doesn’t matter. And I don’t want you to feel that way. When those elderly people told you that you’ll be going nowhere if you don’t listen to them; don’t listen to them for they’re off playing God. I want you to
listen to
nothing and
no one
but your
stances.
I’ll look after
you someday
and make sure
you don’t get
hurt
even if
preventing you
from getting hurt
involves
death to
both of us.”

For the love of God,
we were s t r a n g e r s
when you said that to me.

Now you still don’t get it why do I still love you that profoundly
—and why deep down I wish you loved me?