bernardia
memories are the thieves of my sleep-time. they come at night wandering around the corridors of my brain-cell, trying to get my attention. they are getting more interesting to be noticed minutes by minutes. they evolve into horrendous imagination, and then flung into a dream abyss. once I surrender to it, I cannot wake up without feeling terrorized.
mismatching outfit this day won't be perceived as weird for one, but he would suffer in the future when he looked back on what he wore yesterdays.
she saw
people waiting for their turn,
suddenly chaos inside her started to vomit
the food she ate before
the bacteria dissolve
in the water
they called ooze
some memories
dissolve faster
and remain as a buzz
i bought a box on a art market. they said there toadstool will grow if i give it enough water everyday. i am so excited.
I'm so lucky to get this word. I am an agricultural student. I discuss with farmers. They are superheroes. Sometimes when I did not finish my dinner, I'll be in regret.
I can't go skiing since we have no snow, since the sun always comes up before any ice floor that shiny like mirror below those feet turn as hard as glass.
the quilted clouds floating around the plane
determine the fate of people on the passenger train
decide the destiny of souls on the sea lane
this is a part of life called refrain
sunrise above Setumbu Hill
a beautiful scenery of Borobudur
very early in the morning
it's cold before your hand grabs mine
likely I have not finished
this poem last night
the idea seems vanished
left this paper in plain white
like those words fled away
when we were dating
we could not even saying
good bye on that Christmas day
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