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 Oct 2013 Syahmi Imran
Lizzy
When your heart stops, your brain still works for seven minutes
Seven minutes to still feel pain.

Then why is it that when your heart breaks, your brain continues to play the memories of us over and over?
An eternity to feel the pain.
Not exactly a poem, just something I thought of at 1:30 in the morning.
 Oct 2013 Syahmi Imran
Maddie
You pretended to care
Told me, "I will." and took me in,
Said something sweet.
You said what I want, but not what you mean.
We were seemingly so serene.
You promised me,
Not just in times of glee.
The happier we seemed to be,
The wishes, well were kept.
As soon as the wind kicked up,
You were emotionally inept.
You said I was the one.
Who knew you'd run.
I saw all your imperfections.
And lied to myself about every one.
Your lie was more,
But it was my favorite.
You'd quietly say,
"I love you too."
Because, sometimes a lie,
Is better than truth.
 Oct 2013 Syahmi Imran
Maddie
When it comes to you,
I'll wait.
You're eyes are bait,
But I won't bite.
I'll sit up straight.
I'll respond,
Not instigate.
I promise,
I'll wait.
I've got time.
I'll need it at this rate.
 Oct 2013 Syahmi Imran
Qadriah
konon
 Oct 2013 Syahmi Imran
Qadriah
kau bilang "i love you"
in the most monotonous of tones
kau tak renung pun matanya
dan kau expect dia untuk percaya?
yang belakang-belakang pula
tak payah cerita

cinta
konon.
 Oct 2013 Syahmi Imran
Anderson M
My acute dementia
Seems to precipitate the need for immediate euthanasia
A hurried departure
Through the aperture
Deep set in the hollowness of time
Because essentially life’s been a lackluster mime
Imbibing flawlessly flawed ideas
That inform my capricious
Nature to various stimuli
It’s a life story based on a true lie
Frivolities interspersed with grave concerns
The myriad adjourns
Futile attempts at mitigating
A self-imposed galling.
 Oct 2013 Syahmi Imran
Qadriah
I want to be the hands
that aid
the hurting heart, left and ignored
that shed
those tears in silence
the grief when the sobbing is not heard
because the voice of insurgent is too loud
I want to be the words
that comfort
the most restless of bodies, almost every night
that lifts
every of those who has thoughts about giving up

I want to be the hands
as well as the voice
that stop those innocent wrists from being slit
from bleeding unceasingly
the arms
that hug the body that wishes to willingly jump down
from the highest building in town

No other trigger will be pulled
No other rope will be hung
No other life will be taken

As long as there's hope
Because I was once, too, among the 'almost hopeless'. Yes, I used to have depressions. And I hurt myself. There's hope.
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