The thing I am most grateful
for is that when my heart broke,
it broke open.

No one tells you
That loneliness hurts
That you can feel emptiness
That your heart can physically ache
They don’t explain to you
That your body knows you’re alone
It hurts more than you can describe
It burns until you can’t take it
But by that point
You’re a freak
You’re so far gone
No one will want you
You’re broken now
You’re damaged goods
So the only antidote to the poison
Of being all alone
Is pushed further and further out of reach
The longer you suffer

Well beneath my sarcasm
My hatred for the world

There is a different story waiting
Waiting to be told

For I am made of poetry
Of sunsets
And the moon

Of summer rain
And chocolate smell
And nights that end too soon

It's hidden well
It's out of sight
It's on you to find the key

For my fragile little world,
My dear,
Is not for everyone, you see?

Years ago
We stayed up till
3 am talking,
And today
I don’t even know
How to say hi,

Sometimes,

Runny mascara is needed
To clean off your face
Define your own tears
And they'll never go to waste

Sometimes
The panic
Is more dangerous
Than the pandemic

It has been years since
I forced myself for being optimistic.
I forced myself to believe
that my wounds are nothing
but little scratches.
I forced myself to believe
that time can heal all the wounds.

But recently, I then realized that
actually I'm fooling myself.
Because some wounds
can't be healed within time.
The scratches were so deep
and can't be healed by simple ajustment.

And it is not easy to move on
when people around me
are so happy to keep making the new wound
on the wounds that is not yet healed.

So, it is time for me to go for hiding,
living in my sanctuary,
not for running away,
but for letting my soul
completely heal in silence.

Because it is not good if I keep
fooling myself with the all lies of saying
"I'm (always) fine" and "I'm (always) okay",
when I'm actually not..

-Kanya Puspokusumo, 2018
http://doeniadevi.wordpress.com