"proses" poems
If you could read my mind,
You’d see a thousand papers
Filled with broken poetries
And deadbeat proses
Full of woeful verses
With mournful pieces
Of unfinished stories
That are yet to be written
And failed to be spoken;
If you could read my mind,
You’d hear horrible screams
And earsplitting weeps
From shattered dreams,
Kept in a nasty notepad,
Scribbled on a bed
Of bloodstained words,
Ringing in my head.
If you could read my mind,
You’d see the shadows
That lurk within me;
You’d hear the bellows,
Screeching the words
“I’m tired,”
“I’m a failure,”
“I’m stupid –”
I know it sounds stupid,
It’s pathetically foolish
And seems like *******
If you could read my mind,
You’d feel the tears
I had ever failed to cry;
You’d see the people
That make the weak weaker;
You’d see the monsters
That consume my head;
You’d hear the hollers
That failed to be freed;
You’d see the heart
That still bleeds and bleeds.
If you could read my mind,
You’d see the face
I’ve failed to show back then,
The face I’ve faked back then.
If you could read my mind,
You’d see a character
I had ever failed to become
If you could read my mind,
You’d be able to read
A book you never wished
To touch and read,
But sometimes I still wish
Someone could read my mind.
Sep 5, 2018
Sep 5, 2018 at 3:34 AM UTC
Purple velvet curtains mimicked purple proses of long dead authors
Auteurs and Anglophiles expressing desire, the desire for Desiree
and she danced, she danced.
Christie too, she danced, she danced
Kick, snare, kick kick, snare, she danced rhythmic hypnosis
Daddy watched from the bar, banal dance of the bandits
And Katzarina, baby in the back, dances for love
Fatherless child begging attention
Dance no more my dear soul, for you deserve more
Lecherous lounge acts, the men in ties
Order another round, girls gather around
Please me, dance for me, ****** and bashful
The purple velvet reminds them of mother
Cruel institutions that decay our psyche
Patriarchal pesticides in pasta and porridge
On the side of the mango, matriarchal monotony
Oh stop this pretentious pillaging of poor prostitutes
You are but a boy at the gates of existence, fear not, for the father and the mother shall hold your hand in the heavenly harem.
Feb 14, 2013
Feb 14, 2013 at 5:53 PM UTC
Inilah Proses Kematian dan Hancurnya Tubuh Kita!
Sesaat sebelum mati, Anda akan merasakan jantung berhenti berdetak, nafas tertahan dan badan bergetar. Anda merasa dingin ditelinga. Darah berubah menjadi asam dan tenggorokan berkontraksi.
0 Menit
Kematian secara medis terjadi ketika otak kehabisan supply oksigen.
1 Menit
Darah berubah warna dan otot kehilangan kontraksi, isi kantung kemih keluar tanpa izin.
3 Menit
Sel-sel otak tewas secara masal. Saat ini otak benar-benar berhenti berpikir.
4 – 5 Menit
Pupil mata membesar dan berselaput. Bola mata mengkerut karena kehilangan tekanan darah.
7 – 9 Menit
Penghubung ke otak mulai mati.
1 – 4 Jam
Rigor Mortis (fase dimana keseluruhan otot di tubuh menjadi kaku) membuat otot kaku dan rambut berdiri, kesannya rambut tetap tumbuh setelah mati.
4 – 6 Jam
Rigor Mortis Terus beraksi. Darah yang berkumpul lalu mati dan warna kulit menghitam.
6 Jam
Otot masih berkontraksi. Proses penghancuran, seperti efek alkohol masih berjalan.
8 Jam
Suhu tubuh langsung menurun drastis.
24 – 72 Jam
Isi perut membusuk oleh mikroba dan pankreas mulai mencerna dirinya sendiri.
36 – 48 Jam
Rigor Mortis berhenti, tubuh anda selentur penari balerina.
3 – 5 Hari
Pembusukan mengakibatkan luka skala besar, darah menetes keluar dari mulut dan hidung.
8 – 10 Hari
Warna tubuh berubah dari hijau ke merah sejalan dengan membusuknya darah.
Beberapa Minggu
Rambut, kuku dan gigi dengan mudahnya terlepas.
Satu Bulan
Kulit Anda mulai mencair.
Satu Tahun
Tidak ada lagi yang tersisa dari tubuh Anda. Anda yang sewaktu hidupnya cantik, gagah, ganteng, kaya dan berkuasa, sekarang hanyalah tumpukan tulang-belulang yang menyedihkan. Jadi, apa lagi yg mau disombongkan org sebenarnya????
BAGUS UNTUK DIRENUNGKAN.....
Kita tak membawa apapun juga saat kita meninggalkan dunia yg fana ini..
Mar 27, 2015
Mar 27, 2015 at 5:20 AM UTC
they say
he must be lucky
the guy who gets to have me
and i just look in your eyes
and see the hell i have put you through
they fell in love w my words
but i wonder do they know
that this is not beautiful
all these words may make depression look pretty
but it is not
it is not easy to be w a girl
who wants to crawl into the tiniest space of you
and make her home there
it is not easy to be with a girl
who makes you her air
it is not easy to see her
cringe at her own reflection
it is not easy to love her
when all she has is hatred for her self
it is not easy to look at her
when you read her poems about how she wants to peel off her skin
till nothing of her remains
it is easy to say
he must be a lucky guy
lemme assure you
he is not
im not blushing cheeks and perfect smiles
Im not about classy looks and vintage dresses
im like the storm and the only way i know how to show my love is to destroy
it is not easy to talk to her
when she replies in proses and riddles
it is not easy to hold her
when one moment she is warm and cuddlable
and the next she is spitting fire
it is not easy to tolerate her
when one small mistake and
it has already been
carved as a poem
it is not easy to survive her intense gaze
it is not easy to look back into her eyes
when she is looking at you w too much emotions contained in her eyes
too strong for you to take
she is everything
or nothing
or both
at the same time
she is every shade of every color
simulataneously
Ill overwhelm you
or i can make you question your own existence
cause i dont know any other way
to love
than to make you my all
and to be your all
ill love you w a passion
you have never seen before
but can your feeble heart
take it?
do you think
your calculated actions and diplomatic decisions
will help you then?
you may be fooled by my smile
and my gentle voice in which i talk to you
but there is a lot to me
than what meets your eyes
there will always be more to me
than you ll know
and you may think it is easy to love me
but it is not
you are a dreamer, you are in love with the idea of me
while you remain oblivious of
all the stories behind the words i have not yet written
and the words you ll never see.
It is effortless to fall in love with a poem
but being with a poet is a totally different thing
don't you now agree?
Dec 28, 2014
Dec 28, 2014 at 11:40 PM UTC
seluruh hidup, kau akan berdengung menyanyikan lagu selamat tidur ke telinga ini,
dan di tempat tidur mati ini akan menjadi semua saksi..
suatu hari ku kan memuat sebuah memoar di dalam genggaman tanganmu..diiringi sebuah melodi terputus-putus dan bergetar..
mereka menemukan cinta dan ketenangan seperti mereka belum pernah mengenalnya..seperti sebuah daging yang diangkat dari sinar matahari
mereka menemukan cinta dan ketenangan seperti mereka belum pernah mengenalnya..dan tulisan berakhir tanpa sebuah resolusi..sebuah revolusi
sebuah kesudahan perlahan, meleleh, melebur melalui ruang dan waktu ke dalam diri lagi..kebutuhan sebuah realita akan menjadi hampa..
mereka berteriak kepada kehampaan “oh wahai kosmos, oh cahaya suci!”..
ia akhirnya belajar dari sebuah bayangan tidak hanya pada kegelapan
dan kepada mereka yang tidak percaya pada sebuah proses, kelak akan menjadi akar yang busuk di dalam sebuah kandungan.
Mar 29, 2012
Mar 29, 2012 at 10:47 AM UTC
If you could read my mind,
You’d see a thousand papers
Filled with broken poetries
And deadbeat proses
Full of woeful verses
With mournful pieces
Of unfinished stories
That are yet to be written
And failed to be spoken;
If you could read my mind,
You’d hear horrible screams
And earsplitting weeps
From shattered dreams,
Kept in a nasty notepad,
Scribbled on a bed
Of bloodstained words,
Ringing in my head.
If you could read my mind,
You’d see the shadows
That lurk within me;
You’d hear the bellows,
Screeching the words
“I’m tired,”
“I’m a failure,”
“I’m stupid –”
I know it sounds stupid,
It’s pathetically foolish
And seems too *******
If you could read my mind,
You’d feel the tears
I had ever failed to cry;
You’d see the people
That make the weak weaker;
You’d see the monsters
That consume my head;
You’d hear the hollers
That failed to be freed;
You’d see the heart
That still bleeds and bleeds.
If you could read my mind,
You’d see the face
I’ve failed to show back then,
The face I’ve faked back then.
If you could read my mind,
You’d see a character
I had ever failed to become
If you could read my mind,
You’d be able to read
A book you never wished
To touch and read,
But sometimes I still wish
Someone could read my mind.
Dec 23, 2018
Dec 23, 2018 at 1:38 AM UTC
Aku harus mendaki tebing bernama proses; menaklukannya. Legenda berkata bahwa diujungnya tinggallah sesuatu yang baik. Namun memang semua pendaki tau bahwa tebing yang satu ini tidaklah mulus. Bebatuan, dataran curam, udara dingin, debu menyesakkan, silahkan kau sebut semua hal itu. Mereka ada di tebing ini, selalu.
Semesta kejam dan kamu sendirian. Setidaknya itulah yang harus aku ingat. Aku tidak mau berujung hanya sebagai seonggok jasad dengan nama tertulis. Maka dari itu datanglah keharusan untuk mengejar sesuatu yang baik ini.
Aku takut. Aku takut. Sebenarnya aku takut. Karena semacam tebing bukanlah rumahku. Tebing kurang akan rasa nyaman dan rasa cukup tau. Sungguh tak pula aku paham benar dengan apa yang dimaksud dengan 'sesuatu yang baik'. Namun semua orang tetap harus mendaki, entah kenapa.
Nov 7, 2015
Nov 7, 2015 at 5:52 AM UTC
My kinderjare was
Soetsappige drome
En ek het weggesluimer
Agter suiwer onskuld,
Met ń krag van geloof
Wat my oortuig het dat
My God ook jou God is...
Dat elke pad ń onnodige
Veiligheidsgordel verg
Dat elke beursie ń oneindigheid van R20
Note besit het en dat
Elke graf leeg was na die derde dag
Dit was deur die verskillende stadia van bogenoemde
Uiltjies knip wat my
Tot die meerderheids
Besef van addolosensie gebring het.
Selfs al het ek teen ń
Eksponensiële spoed
Ń volwasse begrip ontwikkel
,Was my redenasie oor die
Hiernamaals nog vaag
Met slaap in die oog
Eers toe daar een
langs my Val
En tien aan my sy
Het die drakoniese deun
Van die doodswek my
Uit my snoesige slaap geruk.
Met elke groef wat nuwe
Paaie teer vir my trane,
Elke silwer randjie wat
Lostrek van die donker wolke
En op my hoof kom rus
Soos die koue staal
Van ń koningin se swaard
Wat my inlyf in die
Sidderende realiteit van grootword en lewe
Nou is die droom verby
Nou staan ek op
En vrees om plat te val...
Ek oes en saai
Met ń bekommernis of my ploeg iets sal maai...
Nou word paaie ń lang gebed
Ter beskerming van my hart
Wat ek so maklik uitdeel
En beursies ń kommoditeit
Wat skree van die honger
Soos die mense van ń land
Wat al sy geloof verloor het...
Nou brand die sand my voete
En die seesout droog my vel...
Nou word wraak ń amp
En liefde ń kombinasie
Van gifte en giwwe
, maar ek sal nooit weet
Wanneer is dit wat nie...
Nou word lewe ń gebed.
Ek het ophou my
Kinder rympies sê,
Nou bid ek pynlik swaar
En hoop dat God
Nog genade vir my en
vir jou Sal hê
Amen
May 6, 2014
May 6, 2014 at 5:44 PM UTC
she was just another poet
who wrote
late night proses
about smoking
ten cigarettes
in one sitting,
and climbing closed gates
at 1 am
and other bad ideas —
bad ideas
like him.
Oct 3, 2019
Oct 3, 2019 at 10:25 PM UTC
the electricity posts
in my veins are all broken
and there aren't enough
electrical engineers to revive them.
the atmosphere is getting colder
and the flowers in my tongue slowly whither.
i'm running out of words to use for a the color of your eyes
so im sorry if they turn out to be like anyone else's.
the absence of the tidal waves of poetic awakening
cripples my wrist and fingers until the only way
to get me to write is to bleed.
i want to feel alive
like im a cloud swimming through
the fantastic colors of the sky.
i miss the way ink drips from my fingertips
i want to feel home again.
home with words, with poetry.
laying down on a bed of proses while a piece
sings softly in the background.
that's my hyper-reality, a kind of fantasy
i can no longer find meaning in.
Jul 12, 2016
Jul 12, 2016 at 7:37 AM UTC
All that I am or hope to be I owe to my ANGEL mother…
Born as a child in this world..
But brought up by a divine fairy as if in paradise..
I’LL REMEMBER..
Greeted, loved, blessed, praised n cherished all in one sway..
The blessful hands on my forehead..
I’LL REMEMBER..
Scoffed, scolded, sometimes thrashed but then instantly forgiven..
That love..
I’LL REMEMBER..
The moderating essence of love and care..
Fulfilling all our yearns n neglecting her’s but still always a pretty smile..
I’LL REMEMBER..
Beginning with alphabets, stories, proses and now counseling afflictions of life..
All that persuades..
I’LL REMEMBER..
Your sacrifices, your devotion, your calmness, your essence..
Your love..
I’LL REMEMBER..
I wish every mother was like mines..
So my luck..
I’LL REMEMBER..
In this world everyone can betray but mother being the only exception..
I’LL REMEMBER..
Your divine countenance, your peerless smile, your adoring eyes..
Lovely u..
I’LL REMEMBER..
Love u mumma..
Thanks for giving life to me first and then becoming MINES…
Nov 21, 2012
Nov 21, 2012 at 7:47 AM UTC
When you grow up in the world
Surrounded by images of hate
Your mind gets distorted and unfurled
And you lose your will to create
Wrath begins to fill that void
****** is all your mind can see
An inner turmoil you try to avoid
You're Moses parting the Red Sea
The waters that blind your sight
Washing over your eyes in crimson
Blood is on your mind, what a blight
Trying to overcome society's condition
I write a refrain of this inner pain
That is a slow drain on my membrane
Leeching out the last sane
Cell in my drug addled brain.
Dec 13, 2014
Dec 13, 2014 at 3:55 PM UTC
Together, we wrote proses and poems,
carefully stroking each word - with pain.
Together, we listened to the same songs,
sharing how the lyrics pierced deep - with sadness.
Together, we loved other partners,
often argued with them; felt drained, dragged - with disappointment.
Together, we gazed at the stars and the moon above,
may better things happen, we pray - with hope.
Together, we told stories of our lives,
chipping away the wall between us - with trust.
Together, we magnified the connection,
conversing for hours and hours to pass - with control.
Together, we sought distractions,
side by side we fell into slumber - with comfort.
Together, we pulled ourselves up,
lightening the burden on our shoulders - with compassion.
Together, we flashbacked the tough years,
burying the unchangeable experiences - with acceptance.
Together, we reminisced our life-changing moments,
realizing how further we've gone from that - with growth.
Together we sang. Together we cried.
Together we peeled away the loneliness inside.
Together we laughed. Together we dreamt.
Together we felt comfortable dwelling on each other's head.
But there was one exception, as it is to every rule.
In almost everything, we were together, but when I fell, I was alone.
And alone I broke.
Oct 23, 2013
Oct 23, 2013 at 12:17 AM UTC
caramel apple eyes
with no smile,
just a smirk
maybe you'll spare me
from my two year and counting sentence
but it seems unlikely
that i'll be able to get over you,
because if I haven't already
I never will.
Tell me why I can only formulate magnificent proses when they
come from a spot of mourning that you left in the pits of my rotting stomach
it's an ethereal feel that links me back to the sea
your scent draws me in close,
how I desperately want to jump off a cliff to save myself from your grasp.
I spend countless nights huddled in a corner of my room
and I've come to the conclusion that love is only good
when you're in it.
I return to the ocean cliff every day,
looking out to try to pinpoint the bottom of the raging blue rapids beneath where I stand 133 feet up.
Maybe if I can dance closer to the edge,
you'll take notice and save me before I fall
but who am I kidding?
I was the one to take things too far,
I don't want to finish this poem.
May 14, 2017
May 14, 2017 at 11:03 PM UTC
Pasal I; tentang mengikhlaskan dan melepaskan.
- kau harus tau, bahwa dirimu yang telah kulepaskan dengan ikhlas, adalah dirimu yang sekarang. bukan dirimu dahulu, ketika ku pertama mengenalmu.
-kau harus tau, bahwa melepasmu bukan tentang rasa yang kian hari berubah, namun, melepasmu adalah jalan terbaik setelah mengikhlaskan dirimu berbahagia dengannya.
-sekali lagi, kau juga harus tau, bahwa melepas dirimu bukan berarti berlepas diri dari segala luka, namun aku paham, bahwa segala sesuatu yang terpaksa dan dipaksakan, justru semakin memperdalam luka. semoga mengikhlaskanmu tak sesulit melepasmu.
-perlu diingat, sebagai penegasan bahwa melepasmu bukan karna egoku semata, bisa kau temukan, semua proses melepaskan dan mengikhlaskanmu adalah demi kebahagiaanmu semata, karena dengan bersamanya (semoga) kau bisa benarbenar berbahagia, dan kuharap, diriku ikut andil sebagai pembawa bahagia bagimu.
prdks.
Aug 4, 2017
Aug 4, 2017 at 3:09 PM UTC
*I want to do a movie-marathon,
Running from morning til noon to midnight.
Watch all the saddest movies ever filmed.
Or spend this day reading stories, novels, proses.
All told by broken souls, fueled by heartaches.
'Til all these pain metamorphose and birthed into tears.
'Til all these hurt goes away along with this release.
For,
I am growing tired of saying "It's okay. I'm fine."
Enough of the lies!
Those lines..
It kept me from being human,
For it suppress
the cries,
the screams,
the state of fragility.
It kept me from feeling weak,
from being vulnerable.
And,
I need to hear your voice, to soothe my restless soul.
I need to feel your hands holding mine, making me feel that i am not alone.
I need to see that look in your eyes, penetrating inside me,
reviving embers of my being
that is slowly drifting away.
I need to...
Oh please!
I need you.
Anything you can offer to take away this emptiness.
***Until I can see I.
Until I can hear me.
Until I can feel and be myself again.**
Apr 16, 2015
Apr 16, 2015 at 10:48 AM UTC
But he's out there standing tall,
making a difference
while I'm sitting here, falling short,
staying the same.
But he's far away, far-sighted
and breaking new grounds,
while I'm at arm's length, half-blind
and on the verge of breaking his heart.
And every day he's fulfilling
a bigger purpose.
And come what may, I am only
writing of sad proses.
And he's moving relentlessly,
he's ever-growing.
And I'm staying stuck and dry,
I am simply withering.
From his stares,
I would most likely seem small.
And I think he knows
by now he have won.
With his touch,
I would most likely feel like a little girl.
And I'm trying to grow
So I'll try to go...
May 16, 2022
May 16, 2022 at 11:33 AM UTC
I fell in love with your proses
Your words never failed to enlighten everyone
You picked up every single one who needs help the most
They wanted to die,
But you keep on scolding with love
I never thought I could fall in love with someone here
Your passion for words
Your passion for peace
Is so alluringly attractive
Like a magnet you pulled me into your gravity
For the first time I'm actually scared to talk to a guy
But we did talked and now I'm still hungover.
You got me hypnotised by your kindness
Your relentless flame to help those who wanted to end
You with your pen, sparks of love fervent
Your neverending collabs, you will never say no.
If only you would ask me
And maybe we could be
Partners for life.
Jan 4, 2015
Jan 4, 2015 at 2:23 PM UTC
I used to write proses unbothered by rules,
Poems with no assurance of being read,
Words just written to be free.
Now am I one of fools?
Fearing what comes out of my head?
Afraid of what others see?
Is this the curse of technicality?
Of knowing more about reality?
Bluff is that age comes with clarity.
Here is my **** to hell I send,
Existing is tiring year by year,
Is there anything more to feel?
I am far from the end.
But I wish I am near.
I have nothing time can steal.
Jan 27, 2022
Jan 27, 2022 at 9:23 AM UTC
Who's wearing sundays
Songs jejune peruses;
May her corsage roses
Dress the fine arrays!
And gathered 'round strays,
Each of them amuses
Their eyes with their noses
For depots off ways.
The fantastic plays
Out of them her bruises;
Songs fed by drunk proses
May enchant in rays!
Apr 25, 2021
Apr 25, 2021 at 11:39 AM UTC
The chemical dust of rain shot its soul onto the stop sign, which blew sideways from the opposite facing caravans of new thought, "The Thoughtless Carol." Caroling into the night to Ebeneezer who rejected the cold Florida moon echoing over its waters, shooting fireworks into the rainbow cured sour sky which was busy writing its suicide note, being fed up of the proses it didn't deserve. "Life is overrated." It said as it met its maker who replied, "I know what you mean..." There was a hurricane, or at least a harsh wind that scattered the hanging tree ashes around and we drove and gladly crunched over a youngly corpse and hit every deer and "dear life," which decided to look for loved and lost on the highway, "The Lost Highway." Yes I believe Hank hit the mark with that one. And the waves shook me and I awoke to a dream or maybe life and reality, if those words could ever truly be defined. The American flag whipped its tail and dipped its fresh ideas into negative pH leveled acid, corroding its stripes and bleeding the stars into a thirsty, scraggly ground which gladly ate the bits of ethnocentrism, stopping the grass from growing. Why? Because I had only twenty-some letters to choose from and these are the only words that should or could be made. The only words that ever deserved to be written. And I'm pretty sure this page is going to hang itself, because this is like the most boring poem ever and I'm a boring poet:
"A Poem's Suicide!"
"The Slit-Wrist Prose!"
"The Toaster-Bath Ode!"
"The Overdosed Elegy!"
"The Free-From-Life Free-Verse!!!!"
May 25, 2016
May 25, 2016 at 11:43 AM UTC
Katanya, tak baik untuk memendam
Tetapi, tak semua rasa mudah memadam
Katanya, janganlah selalu dipendam
Nyatanya, tak semua cakap bisa meredam
Mereka, bisa menuntut
Tetapi, haruskah hati selalu menurut?
Mereka, bisa bertindak sebagai penuntut
Tetapi, rasanya.. jiwa tak perlu selalu berlutut
Ada masa.. untuk menarik diri
Untuk bersimpuh, dan memberi diri afeksi
Ada masa... untuk menangis, memendam semua emosi
Untuk menyadari semua hanya proses menjadi asri
Terima kasih, sudah selalu kuat
Berdiri dan menjalani semua walau terasa berat
Terima kasih, sudah selalu kuat
Untuk kamu, yang terhebat..
May 29, 2023
May 29, 2023 at 10:01 AM UTC
pasal III; tentang berpisah, memisahkan diri, dan sebuah perpisahan.
-sampailah rasa ini di titik paling akhir perjuangannya, dimana setelah semua usaha bermuara, dan nyatanya tak terbalas sesuai ekspektasi. akhirnya, aku (dan kamu) memilih untuk mundur dari pengharapan masingmasing, memilih memisahkan diri, untuk kemudian bersamasama mencari jalan hidup pribadi.
- mungkin saja di satu sisi, ada pihak yang merasa terberatkan, dan tentu saja yang memberatkan, mengingat perihal perpisahan adalah suatu fase, dimana 2 pribadi yang dulunya saling dan berusaha terikat mengikat, kini harus mulai merenggangkan ikatan masingmasing. dan pasti ada yang tak sanggup, dan ada yang terburuburu berpisah. tapi tak apa, aku terbiasa menopang perkara berat ini.
- namun ada kalanya, kau lah yang terberatkan dengan proses ini, jadi mulai sejak dinilah, kumohonmaaf untuk apa yang akan terjadi di kemudian hari, atau mungkin saja esok hari, ketika ku mulai merasa, bahwa perpisahan adalah cara terbaik untuk melanjutkan hubungan ini.
- plot twist; adalah ketika kita masih tetap berusaha saling menyatakan setia dan menjaga keberadaan masingmasing kita, tapi, kita tetap saja terpisahkan, karena sebab masa depan masih terlalu gelap untuk diterawang sekarang, mengingat kodrat yang bernyawa akan mati, yang dekat akan jauh, dan yang jauh, tak penah lagi kembali. maka nanti kemudian masa, jika saja kita memang terpisahkan oleh takdir, maka sekali lagi maafkanku, juga terima kasih, untuk mu, dan untuk hadirmu.
- karena berpisah, bukan sematamata hanya sekedar ego, melainkan sebuah komitmen. semoga kau mengerti, jika kelak kita berpisah, dirimu tetaplah dirimu, kau tetap saja begitu, dan jangan berubah, sebab kisah kita yang berakhir tragis, tak layak mengubah senyummu yang manis.
prdks.
Aug 6, 2017
Aug 6, 2017 at 12:39 PM UTC
i was your favorite ghost.
you'd visit me once a week
throw some roses
read some proses
allow some tears to leak
you no longer visit me
not once a month or at all
i sit here waiting
my mind debating
why I allowed myself to fall
then one day you bring her to me
she smells like butterscotch
i comprehend
why we had to end
but i can't bear to watch
still, i am just a ghost
a graveyard fantasy
and you have love
someone to think of
who lives in reality
May 18, 2010
May 18, 2010 at 11:14 PM UTC