The breath in my chest
Scraped against my esophagus
As the preacher read his
Introductory scripture and a
Mourning loved one doubled over
In grief and despair as she
Struggled to bid adieu;

The hairs on the back of my neck
Stood horizontally and
Perpendicular to my concrete floor
As I heard the sweetest soul I know
Choke on her sobs on the
Other end of the receiver,
As she struggled to understand
The onset of pain and finality
She was forced to swallow;

My stomach hollowed and
Acidic anger bubbled and carved out my insides
When I read my best friend's texts,
A series of words
That seemed too cruel to be true,
A riffraff of  interrogatories and
Unsettled punctuation,
Summarizing the momentary suspension
Of her resiliency
As she processed the
Breaking of her heart;

And now I lay motionless
On my mattress,
Hot tears masquerading behind my
Tightened eyelids as I writhe in
Empathy,
Alone in my incapability
To end the pains and the woes of
Those around me,
As my body thus must then grieve
For me.

Who is confident
Will be cognisant
Others may be right.
Who is arrogant
Will be adamant
They alone are right.
Therefore arrogance
Is just confidence
That's asserted; Right?
Or it may just be
Insecurity,
This need to be right.
To make others small
So one can feel tall
Is never alright!
Who gains this insight
Will have seen the light
And will do all right.

I am tired, physically
Feeling my mental exhaustion.
The rhythm of my life takes me
Where I would rather not go:
Places embraced by a fog of fatigue,
While I experience moments of weirdness.

It taught so much, about myself, about us.
It took so much, of my time, energy, and personnality.
Is it enough, and does it worth it ?
Because giving myself to others is scary....
Am I able to retrieve what I gave
When I am free of responsibilities ?

I am not certain, because I feel loneliness.
I feel that there isn't that many people like us.
I feel we are left to ourselves, and being not able
To ask for help, when it comes to recomposing.
Recomposing ourself. Resourcing our batteries, so,
When our weekends end, we could go back to helping others.

If the world was so vibrant to others
And if people bursted with color,
I'm sure I'd feel less alone.

aku adalah bulan purnama yang ada di atas jalanmu.
Menerangi dengan redup sehingga kau tak peduli.
Namun ada dan menjaga. walau sedikit signifikansi bagi anda.

Keelokan ku tak terlihat bagi siapa saja. sembarangan. Aku barang mahal. kau perlu congkak dan mendongak untuk melihat.

Tenang saja, aku bukan seperti saudaraku yang satu itu. Terlalu membutakan sampai kau tak sanggup memandang.

Agar bisa kau sawang aku redup.

Sekarang kutanya

Kurang sayang apa aku padamu?

"don't expect to not get disappointed,"
they said.

i didn't expect you to hurt me
no, not
the same way you know i already have been before

that's what blinded me
but had my eardrums alert
adverting its attention
to my slowly cracking heart

it wasn't that you hurt me
that hurt the most
it was how you did
while knowing,
how you were doing it,
all while promising
"i wouldn't ever"
turns out you would
turns out you are
like them
like all the others
and
dare i say it,
like him.

For years I wanted to be like the others
too perfect to go unnoticed
until you looked at me like that.
You said you liked my hair
and I said it wasn't like the others.
You said you liked my eyes
and I said they're only brown,
not green or golden or blue.
You said you liked my laugh
and I laughed at that.
It was only until then that I realized
I don't want to be like the others
because you don't look at them like that
and because My Heart doesn't have to be the one inside me
to be the one that I own.