May,
used to be my favorite month,
eighteen May will always be my favorite day,
realizing something not right make me feel
'why am i exist?'
and my tears fall.

everyday I grow up,
words and actions hurt my heart,
still i choose to be strong,
pretend to be strong is not easy,
deep in my heart scars everywhere
and ask 'why my heart get hurts easily?'

to be strong and pretend to be one,
I keep everything inside,
never think of telling how hurt is my heart,
never even think to forget about it
and just let tears falling non-stop.

dini,
stranger that saves me and motivates me,
through her words and poetries,
she is a first aid box,
always there when I get hurt
and she is my b.a.e (before anyone else)