Month: April 2017


I’m afraid.
I’m in darkness.
I’m being chased,
I feel hot and I’m crying also.
There’s light, a voice of someone that might be helping me-I fall and fall, bleeding, I hope, I fall, and it still indeed not funny, this DARKNESS.

I’m afraid.
I’m afraid, I’m fragile and I’m naked.
Vulnerable, I hope run can save my live : I’m afraid and I’m fragile and I’m naked.
I’m crying, I’m yelling also I’m begging.
Being tied, I hope, ridiculously hope, I simply won’t die.
I am afraid, I am shaking and being chased.
I am afraid, I am yelling and none listening.
I am afraid, I am looking back and and there is no mercy.
I’m afraid and it’s silence.


Suicide Letter

I thought it would be blue.
When the sky ripped into two,
All the sphere and bird and clouds, sucked into the damaging tantrum,
It is almost as if the sky crying,
I am staring at that.
All the fusion and crash,
All the papers and pen around me,
I thought the world would be blue.

I’ve always hated the white paper,
For it not understanding how hard to write a starting letter on it.
And writing on it is getting harder that it would be my last letter :
‘Dear Mother,’
I throw all the papers to the grounds with all of its twin, I could not even left her the last message.
Dear Mother,
I still can’t do it that I crush the paper again, throwing it on the floor again.
I’m crying now all hands holding my head and feeling its pulsation.
The frustration dwelling in this loser made me scream a voiceless anger.
It is as if the world ain’t letting me win, not even winning over something as small as writing a letter.
I’m a loser I’m a loser I’m a loser I’m a loser a lot much loser I’m a loser I’m a loser
And I tried to overcome my last challenge. I’m a loser. The world is so vast and too much hardship in it. I cried a lot, I burn a lot, I curse a lot too and finally I got to only override on last quest, I’m writing it in sorrow, in anger of despair. I’m thinking it in my deepest thinking,I’m swearing in my rudest word, I’m writing my suicide letter.

Too Old to Cry

She is 58 years old,
And I am 61.
When we meet,
at last we meet,
we were hidden in wrinkles because laughter split every skin on our face.
The time has been too long and we still feel like a teenager.
I imagine her hands must have hold too many grandchildren, I also bet she might already forgotten most of her grandchildren,
‘It would be nice if we were married. You and I.’
She look younger than her actual vessel,
Her regret making her looks the most vulnerable,
Yet she just sit there and smile.
We both staring far far away to the grass field, to the sky that looks fairly horizontal above it, more further, we were looking to the forest where we used to play.
She and I when we have lot more hair than now, when we were even taller than now.
‘I love you,’ I said to her, and the kiss after that felt like the most tender of anything.
In the forest where she and I falling deep to our kiss,
I thought I would be the happiest.
In the forest where she and I feel falling deep into love,
I thought she would be mine.
Yet we are now old,
Being too old,
Even too old to live a bit more longer and she and I…
Not the happiest.

To Give in To Happiness

I don’t know if I am getting more mature or simply I’ve been stupid this whole time for not seeing it.
I know people come and go and I know and around those people I’ve smiled, I’ve cried and I’ve even begging too.
Some people color my world bright and some throw tantrum of darkness into my painting-of-life,
I feel like in dungeon, yet all the brick, all the concrete colored with magical bright clouds ;
I’ve meet too many person that is unique and cruel,
Is beautiful and broken
Young and dying,
More and more and a lot for me to realize :
I can still smile when you burn my bags, ripping all my papers and my cords.
I’m laughing when you bring me cards of hope and wishful thinking, and hug and caresses, and when you beg me with sad sad words, I was almost rolling.
Yes I was hopeful when you touch my shoulder, I was shivering too like the wind did.
All of the laughter, the compassion, hatred and hope
Weirdly I have no feelings left and I say
‘Hate and love are just names of feelings that never really exist.’
I sounds so cold when I speak it, we choose what to create, what to feel, and that’s when I look back on my enemies, my friends and I just realized I treat them to grow all the love, all the hate I have for them. I did treat them like that, I love them cause I treat them to be lovable and I loathe them cause I look for excuses in them.
It always have been like this, all my life, yet I always thinking about the feeling more, has my action smaller than my feelings?
It means as something big : finally I can choose not to hate. Finally I can say not to hate. This time, under my logic, you’re unconsciously forgiven.

Some Dull Time

What’re you gonna do if you come home and he’s not there.
You’re out he’ll be at home,
You listen when he’s not speaking,
As you close the curtain he turn the light on, whisper it to me as you way of yelling ‘no’ turning me on.
He’s happy while you’re not,
He stoop while you lay,
You both calling God while it’s in both of you,
Kiss while you’re not there,
Love when you’re away,
You meet when you both away :
It was two voices when you knock the door.

The String That Attach Her To Everything

It’s a place where a soul can not granted the wish,
Where we yelled to the yellow ambience,
To the string where it was attached,
To the cut where our blood dripping, filling the ceramic with indeed our wish : to know.
As we claw into to the string, where it was attached,
The space where we close our eyes as we cry, was also filled with failure.
Some point out there, I guess there will be river with white cloth as the water,
Falling gleefully everytime our hand sunk in it.
I yell ‘to keep it,
Let’s cry into it,
Let’s burn it even,’
How can I say the word I would like to say, if even the feeling I feel can even be known?
He wisely say : ‘you’d like to know.’
And it’s in my blood, perhaps the string, I drown to deep in the white cloth,
Crying yet unable to feel wet on my cheeks,
It is the string that attached,
It is the string that has the future,
It is only the string with only of my wish : to know.