Understanding Bits of Your Brain

I used to envy your skull,
Of its knowledge of your brain,
On its ability to protect your essential organ,
Used to is the saddest word, isn’t it?
Because when we say it, we can’t differ, is it us or time getting older.

We used to had those jolliful first moment,
the first ‘Hehe’ you wrote,
our first matched step,
two pairs of eye stared each other,
that first forceful kiss on our way to my home.

Afterall, I used to need more knowledge about you, like how your DNA formed, which neuron formed your words, which hormone formed your fingers.

I tried to match my eyes with your height, secretly hoped you would stroke my hair,
You would tell me, ‘feel my chest, it is all thumping.’

Boy, how great would it be to never write that all in past tense.


Unfinished Stories

I don’t know, but I really wanted to write words of unfinished story :

“Look, there’s someone behind you.”
“Oh, it’s good. And perhaps you would like to know, it is not someone.”

“Man, such an unfaithful, ugly, penniless groom. The lady decided to marry him!?”
“Yea but you knew why she would.”

Grace was walking at the bridge yesterday. She stopped and saw a suspicious, darkish, mysterious cupboard.

Cathy the cat walks around the house like usual, but, zap!

An unknown hands cheerfully catch and fly her cute fragile body.

How can every thing I tried to write turned to be a bit horror-ish. I’ll try to write a rather cute story perhaps later.

After the Window

Momma always tells me, “never open the window in the attic, or row of crows would be panic.” I don’t understand what does she meant by that. So when I was 4 years old I went to the attic and open the window. I jumped and reached the window. When I opened the attic window, I hate Momma because she lied. There wasn’t crows there, I only saw sky. I was dissapointed because there was no any secret in it.

I am eight now, I think I will open the window again. I don’t know, I just wanted to. So I sneak to the attic and open the window, I think I finally understand what Momma said now. The window showing me the same sky like I saw 4 years ago, and belom them there is a corpse, perhaps that was my missing dad, and the shocked crows stop eating his body, fly and fly away to wherever they want.


being tall isn’t that good.


Talking With the Strongest Man

Look at that strongest man walking, look at how bony his hand is, look at how vigorous his toes is, look at me, the deadliest man.

Shut your thought, as I shatter every people’s cocky minds, shatter and destroy their limbs

Look at people bowing their weak head onto my impressive chest, mumbling how great I am.

So rowdy, that’s my daily life as the strongest man.

A blind girl challenge me a combat today, screaming his-beaten-by-me-father, today.

I laugh at the blind girl’s face, mocking how dark her vision is,

how black her hair is,

then she tries to slap my shoulder, I don’t even try to dodge it,

Her weakness beyond any joke I can found.

Later she poke my other shoulder,

Our foot kick, shaping a cool X,

Flip our body, facing the vast sky.

Hand meet other hand,

Palm push other abdomen,

A good battle,

I win easily.

her open neck, I will broke her open neck,

her blind eyes look up to my face,

my moral kick in,

I didn’t do what I had to,

she stab my eyes.

Suddenly all my shoulder, my hand, foot feels like about to blow, she said, ‘I am the strongest.’

‘I am the master of blind combat,’

‘My suhu taught me how to be blind,’

‘You are a joke.’

Hand reaching her foot, swallowing my pride, ‘teach me be the strongest,’ begging her.


Rivalry Inside

We are the only walking things on this sphere,

Making vertical axis of our million steps.

We have been walking together, only we have an opposite direction

You are so white, ray of sun falling on you, shadow is something kneeling on your feet.

Protect your eyes, isn’t it really hard to have bright shine on something as white as yourself?

You are so dark.

We have never talk to each other, those once-in-years we accidentally met, we kept our eyes straight,

How about  we shouting each other’s name?

Or am I too black for you to call

Did you hate my existence already, only because I absorbs light to never shine around me?

You are too dark.

Isn’t it cruel to have me as something to hate,

I can always listen your whisper to the sphere,

‘don’t ignore that Black,’

‘you are too good to have that Black,’

watch my tears and know this already, my bitter action is something to make the Sphere stronger.

Please tell the Sphere to accept me already, tell it to not hysterical when I decides to appear

Please you look at my eyes that once-in-years we accidentally meet, hug me and let my body become one with you, accept me and we are going to be blend as Gray,

isn’t it tiring for your lover Sphere to hating me, a walking thing inside itself?


Folding My Body

I laugh after the joke, then

I turn round and turn my face into horrible,

A wound spreading its pain from my heart.

Been laughing to hide it

Walking with a stitched heart,

Buying a twister,

The cashier smiling but I know,

After she pick the coin I drop she

turn her face into horrible.

Walking with friends, laughing like crazy,

A moment we turn our back, turn our face into horrible,

The secret is our heart having a big scar.

I know the time we are turning

We are longing to fold our body.

Folding the knee to protect the chest

Folding our hand, tangle it to the legs

Praying time will stop or rewind

Thinking honestly about what we want,



be somebody else

Folding and protecting the little remain or our existence


Have You Ever Seen this Kind of Smile

Water was flown for a minute,

Another Water formed in happines,

such a beautiful moment.

the Water appeared five times a day,

a confusion blower,

but Another Water will not formed in sadness, it choosed to not appear.

Another Water tought the  confusion is a miracle from another world.

years flown, the Water never shown as main character anymore,

it was poor, missed but

the Water would suddenly appeared and stroke those awful feelings, saying,

“never worry about me.”

another years flown,  the Water is something judgemental,

the Water means weakness,

it was hated, but Another Water would always says, “You are my most beautiful.”

years, years years later

the Water becoming present,

now it is hiding in dignity

the Water never a symbol of shame anymore,

never a symbol of limpness anymore

the Water decides to meet Another Water, telling,

“Hey, thank you that you are strong,” or,

“Your existence only and I already owe you,” or,

“Your examples forever carved in me,”

“Lean on me from now,”

The tears now flown in grateful feeling,

years before such a maturing adventure for them,

None of you should ask about their loving feeling in them,

between the Daughter and The Mother.