#redstringtheory - Hello Poetry

Jika teori benang merah benar adanya, apakah perjumpaan kita memang telah ditakdirkan? Apakah benang kita saling tersambung di antara simpul-simpul waktu yang tak terlihat? Aku berharap, di antara sekian banyak benang merah yang kusut, kaulah satu-satunya benang yang mengarah pulang kepadaku. Tuhan, hibahkanlah kepadaku nikmat merayakan cinta— cinta yang tulus dari hati yang membuatku merasa nyaman, aman, dan tenteram. Jika memang dia orangnya, tunjukkanlah bayang benang itu yang mengarah pulang kepadaku, menggenapkan segalanya. Meski kini jarak dan perasaan masih saling berjauhan.

0

Mar 9

Mar 9, 2026 at 10:43 AM UTC

novitahutami

Red String Theory

Jika teori benang merah benar adanya, apakah perjumpaan kita memang telah ditakdirkan? Apakah benang kita saling tersambung di antara simpul-simpul waktu yang tak terlihat? Aku berharap, di antara sekian banyak benang merah yang kusut, kaulah satu-satunya benang yang mengarah pulang kepadaku. Tuhan, hibahkanlah kepadaku nikmat merayakan cinta— cinta yang tulus dari hati yang membuatku merasa nyaman, aman, dan tenteram. Jika memang dia orangnya, tunjukkanlah bayang benang itu yang mengarah pulang kepadaku, menggenapkan segalanya. Meski kini jarak dan perasaan masih saling berjauhan.

19

His eyes captured mine on the subway-train. They felt knowing; telling, yet held a certain pain. I looked at him, not even knowing his name, yet his soul seem one in which I was ingraved. Our eyes danced back and forth, a rhythmic flow, communicating words no one will ever know. Swirling hymns life can't equate. The train was coming and I'd now be late. My eyes lingered on his, grasping hold a final taste. He walked over closer to my fate. Maybe he was getting on the same one as me. Maybe this was our destiney. The train came, quickly sobering my fantasy. I rushed on, not abandoning the hope that he might too. We hope don't we, that's all we'll do. He got on a different train.

0

Sep 23, 2025

Sep 23, 2025 at 2:52 PM UTC

N1tzasw0rld

Ripped apart at the BART station

His eyes captured mine on the subway-train. They felt knowing; telling, yet held a certain pain. I looked at him, not even knowing his name, yet his soul seem one in which I was ingraved. Our eyes danced back and forth, a rhythmic flow, communicating words no one will ever know. Swirling hymns life can't equate. The train was coming and I'd now be late. My eyes lingered on his, grasping hold a final taste. He walked over closer to my fate. Maybe he was getting on the same one as me. Maybe this was our destiney. The train came, quickly sobering my fantasy. I rushed on, not abandoning the hope that he might too. We hope don't we, that's all we'll do. He got on a different train.

17

millions of red threads and yet the one that holds significance tied around the little finger, hooking me to you. _the red string theory—_ fragile, probably a lie, but doesn't it make you cherry? glitter on my hands, i'm no angel but i leave behind what i couldn't mend. it sparkles, everywhere i hold you close— skin placid, hissing almost under touch. throw glances, lips curving to a smile, you're enchanting, flickering alive. _what can i help with?_ give away all i breathe, i'll hand over all my pills, stop injecting myself with words i can't speak, pause inflicting pain upon scars that you won't ever seek. dim lightning, darkened horizons, drugged-up eyes, seeing through the glimmer. my vision fades every time the needle pierces— through my skin, i feel it pulsing, leaving behind the sensation that slowly dulls away everything. heaven and back, while rotting on the same couch, i breathe in the smoke, ashes turning grey. my hair sticks to my skin as i sweat through the blaze. rehab never taught me how to exist. being so undone, the remedy is sick. prescriptions changing, seldom any constants. syringes filled with all that remains far from legal— they call them drugs, is love any far behind in evil? the kind of touch that leaves traces once it's gone, hallucinations scripting out desires and thoughts and scenes that couldn't become. withdrawal makes me crawl, no cure that could stop this spiral. once the highs have been lived through, the crash arrives as an aching breakthrough. i cry in gemstones that rest in the corners of my eyes— sitting, waiting, you can't detach them. they strain towards permanence every time i sigh. the back of the cab is filled with the blazing neons, and it drifts through the street laced in LEDs and glistening homes. i've got a pink heart vision, the glasses leaving me to see stars on every face that carries even the slightest seed of doubt— anxiety etched to the masses, they still envision. i despise you've brought me back to this feeling— the one i ran from, escaped, returned only to attach. got me doing, fawning, sniffing white powder turning black. my phone screen blips, lightning up, the name repeating as i listen to the night come alive. i'm too high, way too high to reply. i tell you i was sleeping, forgive me for my disguise. cheap—cheap _cheap._ i overdosed the wrong kind. i look down at the bill, see the name that wasn't meant to stay in the will. the wrong wrong _wrong_ addiction. you failed me, cursed me, broke me— it's my turn to accept this affliction. shouldn't have—should have. don't regret—all i do is regret. ended, stopped, relapsed—now it's all _red._ the stick in white in between my fingers, lit at the end, vapour rising to the flimsy night air. i sit on the sidewalk, watch the vehicles pass— too dazed to care. i'll stop existing, leaving no traces. this shirt doing much less to stop the cold as it caresses my skin, blankets the wounds, takes away all that i fear. i shall move, get up, throw away the burnt-out **** walk away, the bottoms of my converses heading down the road to nowhere. you won't even bother to map out the path. i just know, the cruelty and the false lies have long since encompassed you whole. see what i am, but you are way beyond my control.

0

Jul 23, 2025

Jul 23, 2025 at 10:40 AM UTC

poeticaofisshues

overdosed the wrong kind

millions of red threads and yet the one that holds significance tied around the little finger, hooking me to you. _the red string theory—_ fragile, probably a lie, but doesn't it make you cherry? glitter on my hands, i'm no angel but i leave behind what i couldn't mend. it sparkles, everywhere i hold you close— skin placid, hissing almost under touch. throw glances, lips curving to a smile, you're enchanting, flickering alive. _what can i help with?_ give away all i breathe, i'll hand over all my pills, stop injecting myself with words i can't speak, pause inflicting pain upon scars that you won't ever seek. dim lightning, darkened horizons, drugged-up eyes, seeing through the glimmer. my vision fades every time the needle pierces— through my skin, i feel it pulsing, leaving behind the sensation that slowly dulls away everything. heaven and back, while rotting on the same couch, i breathe in the smoke, ashes turning grey. my hair sticks to my skin as i sweat through the blaze. rehab never taught me how to exist. being so undone, the remedy is sick. prescriptions changing, seldom any constants. syringes filled with all that remains far from legal— they call them drugs, is love any far behind in evil? the kind of touch that leaves traces once it's gone, hallucinations scripting out desires and thoughts and scenes that couldn't become. withdrawal makes me crawl, no cure that could stop this spiral. once the highs have been lived through, the crash arrives as an aching breakthrough. i cry in gemstones that rest in the corners of my eyes— sitting, waiting, you can't detach them. they strain towards permanence every time i sigh. the back of the cab is filled with the blazing neons, and it drifts through the street laced in LEDs and glistening homes. i've got a pink heart vision, the glasses leaving me to see stars on every face that carries even the slightest seed of doubt— anxiety etched to the masses, they still envision. i despise you've brought me back to this feeling— the one i ran from, escaped, returned only to attach. got me doing, fawning, sniffing white powder turning black. my phone screen blips, lightning up, the name repeating as i listen to the night come alive. i'm too high, way too high to reply. i tell you i was sleeping, forgive me for my disguise. cheap—cheap _cheap._ i overdosed the wrong kind. i look down at the bill, see the name that wasn't meant to stay in the will. the wrong wrong _wrong_ addiction. you failed me, cursed me, broke me— it's my turn to accept this affliction. shouldn't have—should have. don't regret—all i do is regret. ended, stopped, relapsed—now it's all _red._ the stick in white in between my fingers, lit at the end, vapour rising to the flimsy night air. i sit on the sidewalk, watch the vehicles pass— too dazed to care. i'll stop existing, leaving no traces. this shirt doing much less to stop the cold as it caresses my skin, blankets the wounds, takes away all that i fear. i shall move, get up, throw away the burnt-out **** walk away, the bottoms of my converses heading down the road to nowhere. you won't even bother to map out the path. i just know, the cruelty and the false lies have long since encompassed you whole. see what i am, but you are way beyond my control.

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