To a room. Not a common one.
But an empty room.

To a corner. When someone opens the door
will says "Oh she is not here", then leaves.

Leaving you alone. Hoping them to suddenly forget about your well being. Which was not contribute much.

You wish you were dead.

"Everything needs a will"
But the wills inside you dont come with actions.

Over there, they yelled.
"Dead soul isn't dead." 



Berhenti berlagak manis
Lali sudah aku merasa
Kejung lidah payau tekak
Tidak lut lagi dengan kemanisan kata

Tidak akan bisa kau 
Mempengaruhi jiwa manusia kental

Mungkin dia atau dia
Akan tertunduk lemah

Namun tidak aku.

Berhenti jadi murah.



Lewat November itu, terdengar aku rintihannya.
"Gamitlah kamu sejenak, sebelum Disember menderu"
Andainya libasan jam terjeda ketika khayal jagaku mengingatimu
Bakal berkecamuk lah putaran bumi seketika

Namun, mimpi.
Bahkan lenaku diuliti hadirmu tidak lelah minit saat berganti
Pastinya terhapuslah mimpi impiku kamu di realiti

"Gamitlah kamu sejenak, sebelum Disember mendesah"

Aku pertaruhkan anyaman memori silam sebagai asbab kepulanganmu
Mungkin dengan rangkulan kesetiaan kau ke mari kepadaku

Namun, ilusi.
Aku berandaian bisikan naluri mampu beri notis bertalu
Tidak mustahil selamanya aku terperangkap dalam gerimis ilusi.

Bakal, Pastinya, Mungkin, Tidak mustahil.
Terdengar aku rintihannya, lewat November itu.


"The Type" by Sarah Kay

Because we are more than an answer to somebody else's question, so I hope by sharing this gorgeous piece will make us more inspired day by day. Her words touched me, I hope yours will,too-

If you grow up the type of woman men want to look at,
You can let them look at you,
But do not mistake eyes for hands or windows or mirrors.
Let them see what a woman looks like.
They may have not ever seen one before.

If you grow up the type of woman men want to touch,
You can let them touch you.
Sometimes, it is not you that they are reaching for.
Sometimes it is a bottle, a door, a sandwich, a Pulitzer - another
But their hands found you first.
Do not mistake yourself for a guardian or a muse or a promise or a
victim or a snack.
You are a woman - skin and bones, veins and nerves, hair and sweat.
You are not made out of methapors, not apologies, not excuses.

If you grow up the type of woman men want to hold,
You can let them hold you.
All day they practice keeping their bodies upright.
Even after all this evolving it still feels unnatural.
Still strains the muscles, hold firms the arms and spine.
Only some men will want to learn what it feels like to curl
themselves into a question mark around you,
Admit they do not have the answers they thought they would by now.
Some men will want to hold you like the answer.
You are not the answer.
You are not the problem.
You are not the poem or the punch-line or the riddle or the joke.

Woman, if you grow up the type men want to love,
You can let them love you.
Being loved is not the same thing as loving.
When you fall in love, it is discovering the ocean after years of puddle jumping.
It is realizing you have hands.
It is reaching for the tightrope when the crowds have all gone home.

Do not spend time wondering if you are the type of woman men will hurt
If he leaves you with a car alarm heart, you learn to sing along.
It is hard to stop loving the ocean even after it has left you gasping,salty.
So forgive yourself for the decisions you have made.
The one you still call mistakes when you tuck them in at night 
and know this:
Know you are they type of woman who is searching for a place to call yours.
Let the statues crumble.
You have always been the place.
You are a woman who can build it yourself.
You are born to build.