Need
Is a strong 4-letter word.
So is love.
Like homophones, those two easily mixed up.
Sometimes those two rhymes.

Just another day, another night
Without your present presence
I don't know if I might
But I crave for pleasance

Just another minute, another second
Another sleepless in Seattle
Watching the sky leaden
On the very top of Babel

Just another time, another moment
Without understanding one another
Talk but lost in translation
Sorry for being such a bother

Hope is not an assumption
Hope is not derived from a deduction
Hope is never an expectation
Hope is always a superstition.

I just figured something out,
That i have a superpower that no one has
Is to summon anyone from anywhere in the world

Not by warping space-time continuum and portal,
Nor disintegrating and reintegrate their matters and teleport.

Not even by persuading talks to make them come
But by perturbing thoughts that i simply can't be alone.
Polluting my mind with the idea of their presence,
Corroding my sanity at will to reject their absence.

It might sounds like an illusion
But those imagery have diluted to reality.
I refuse to believe that it is a delusion
My brain simply suffused with such ability.

There's a part of me that want to say,
"I miss you so **** bad."
But i know, when we're apart
There's a part of my day that was missing.
I already missed a lot of things throughout my life
So, i get used to these types of feeling.
Thus, a part of me knew that we're already apart
A part of me knew that we're no longer "us"
Although, we agreed on something
That there's a part of sparks we have to extinguish
A part of feelings we have to suppress
And yet we knew, it's not that easy
Well, i don't know, at least for me
A part of me think that you've done it well.
A part of me know that i don't.
A part of me know that even if we starts
It will end anyhow.
Even if i no longer think everything matters,
A part of me think there's a part of you that matters
A part of me wish we're not apart.

One of my past wrote a poem for me, titled
"To the one he would end up with"
In it, there's a line that i really live by
"Please be the kind of home he deserve"
She was.

One of my past wrote a poem for me, titled
"Restart"
In it, there's a line that really hits me
"But life must go on, i have to let you go"
She did.

One of my past got a poem from me, titled
"Things i wish i remember"
In it, there's a line that i often forgot
"I wish i remember that love will leave"
I don't.

One of the day i wrote a poem for myself, titled
"Poem"
In it, there's a line that really makes me think
"Please be the kind of home he deserve"
It's void.

When you are on the edge of a cliff, you can only see the scenery. It is beautiful. It is the best.

When you are on the edge of a cliff, you'll get scared of height. Or get scared of things that used to won't bother you at all.

When you are on the edge of a cliff, maybe it will be the first time you think about moving backward. Because there is no other choice.

But when you finally take the leap, you won't recognize any of those. Not even your face that might screaming out loud.

But you will see things you wouldn't expect. Like your life flashing in front of your eyes. Or your happiness that used to conquer you.

Until some moment you'll realize that it was too late. It will absolutely fine if you took a step back, or maybe a couple of steps more.

You'll realize that the scenery is not as good as your life that flash.

You'll realize that the clock is ticking so fast you felt it slowing down.

You'll realize, that your life might be better if you didn't jump.
You'll realize, that the leap not only will take the sadness away.
But also the joy that come along

Every sip of cheap wine you bought every now and then.
Every deep inhale of your favourite cigar.
Every tipsy 2 a.m. conversation.
All gone.

The clock is ticking too fast before you realize,
That it is too late.

Until you find out,
That the scenery is not as good as before you take that leap.

Why does world
appear in greyscale?
Grey sunflower
Slightly brighter grey emitted
from a rusty old neon sign
That no longer know how to shine

Why does world
appear in greyscale?
Grey clouds with or without rain
Slightly darker bow in the sky
after a slight drizzle of waters
That gradually shades

Why does world
appear in greyscale?
Grey trees in a park
Monochromatic birds
i'd never recognize
That occasionally chirps

Why does world
appear in greyscale?
And why does your existence
has colours?
Pink that i always think
Green that makes me grin
Yellow that dissipates sorrow

Why does world
appear in greyscale?
And why does your existence
bring colours?
Blue that i never knew
Blue that i feel without you

One of my friends said,
If you ignite the sparks too early
It'll end up poorly

Though we knew that timing is the key
Though we knew that it was never too late
Yet it was also always too early

How can we live in such contradictory?

Maybe it was never meant to starts
Since we know that it'll be over
As soon as it began

So how can we know?
About the timing that we never got right?
About when, where, what, who, why, and how?

So how can we know?
If none of those questions
Ever answered

I don't hate my life.
I don't hate it to the point of
I don't like it either
Life has no meaning whatsoever.

I don't see an exit.
I don't want to leave this road.
I don't want to stay either.
The journey, won't matter.

Endless succession of romance
Unbearable pain of being hurt
Inevitable arrival of death
All those are simply.

An unexpected timing
An unbounded urge of having
An unlikely feel of loving
All those, really meant nothing

Life
has no meaning whatsoever.

Most people are,
Everyday we've seen news about physical abuse, ****, ******, etc.
The only thing we can conclude is "People are Jerks"
Yes, they are the worst.
No wonder the devil refuse to bow down to Adam and Eve.
People are basically toxins we never found the cure for.
People are disease, spreading all around the world like PB & J on a toast.
People are the worst.

They **** up a lot of things,
Environment, society, family, even another people.
They always find a way to ***** up everything.
And they always have a reason to say they're not.

People are jerks,
Most people are,
But,
Unlike you,
Unlike me,
Unlike us.

People who have demons in their head.
We are different.
Unlike Adam and Eve, those demons are actually bow down to us.
Those demons live in our head because they respect us so much they let us control them.

People are jerks that's why they have each other to **** up each other's mind.
Us? We're not jerks.
We have our demons trying to mess with our head.
And we have our demons for us to ****.

We are beneath those people.
We are actually better.
Unlike people,
They all jerks.

They say, "When you love something, set it free."
Are they tho?
When you love something, you don't stop loving it.
Even if the whole world talk you out of it.
Even then, especially then.

Because if you could set it free that easily
Then, it's not love.
It's just a random disposable stuff that can be thrown in instance.
It's a piece of crap that once you mistaken as a jewel.
It's a bad movies with a great CGI.
It looks good once, but not memorable.

Because love should be memorable.
Don't ever forget that!
Even if the whole world tell you to forget it.
Even then, especially then.

Let's talk
In homophones

I eye
Lights lies
Here hear
Excepting accepting
Prey's praise
Met med
Loves loafs
Live leave

Am i going mental?
Why do i keep talking to a brick wall?
Am i going superstitious?
Why do i try to communicate with a ghost?
Am i losing my mind?
Why do i chase pavement?
Am i losing my sense?
Why do i seek non-existence?

Am i?
Am i?
Am i?
Am i writing a poem?
Or am i talking to myself?
Or am i?
Or,
Please stop this noise
Please stop before it's too late
Or,
Is it already too late?

You are too late!
You spineless indecisive ****!
You already talking to yourself!
I'm not a noise!
I can't be stopped!

They've been blessed
Whom with innocence
For tho they're damaged
Bless them with ignorance

Each piece of one's mind
Slightly scattered none atoned
Enhanced with weak spine
Sanity postponed

Half they split
With each others contradict
Talks in silence
The other merely presence

They speaks out loud
With their beaks but no spout
Tho they were alone
They will never be gone

Time is unstoppable
Pausing is impossible
Pending the inevitable
Things built starts to rumble

For all the things i savour
I know i'm no saviour

Am I immortal or what?
I was once got hit by a motorcycle, witnessed by my friends.
Slammed almost 6 feet vertically in the air, about 15 feet horizontally.
All my friends were too stunned to speak.

I got up right away, helped the one who crashed into me.
Only a few scars that got healed too quickly.

Am I immortal or what?
I was once took too many pills, accompanied by my friends.
Chugged too many alcohol, inhaled too much tars in my lung.
All my friends were too surprised that i'm still alive.

I got sober right away, provided them to cure their hangovers.
Only a few discomfort that gone away too quickly.

All those physical pain, i can endure.
All those real wound, i can heal.

Yet, some imaginary scars might almost killed me.
Repeatedly like some kind of a hobby.
All those attempts i made to **** me
Were only ends up in the lobby.

So, am I immortal or what?
If it's physical pain, i can live with that.
I can still be alive.
If it's emotional pain, please, just make me unalive.

I probably
Dead inside already

So, am I immortal or what?
If i'm cursed with such powers,
Don't make me walk down this road by myself.
Don't make me make some new wounds just to feel things.
Don't make me push anyone away just so they don't get hurt.

Don't make me their punishment they'd think they deserve
Don't make me their burden they never deserve.

Let's go back to nihilism, shall we?
Where everything doesn't matter and will never matter.
Not even your presence
Your absence
Your excellence
Not even my ignorance
My obsolescence
My essence

Let's go back to existentialism, shall we?
Where everything doesn't have meaning and will never have.
Not even your eyes
Your smiles
Your scars
Not even my part
My hurt
My heart

You simply exist
I simply here
It's not destined
It's not meant
We simply bumps into eachother in this chaotic world
Like particles in a vessel, the world is heating up.
They collided more often.

And that
Doesn't mean a thing.

**** those who care.
**** those who care enough to care.
**** those who care enough to bear.

Abandon all hope.
Abandon all hope to hope.
Abandon all. Stop.

I wish i could express how i feel right now
The way a poet does.

I wish i could tell that i'm happy
That you still reply my messages
(Un)willingly. Whichever suits you the most.

I wish i could say that i'm sad
That you have a thought about turning back
About stopping the interaction
Because you thought it won't lead you anywhere.

I wish i could disagree with your thought.
But i can't see the future.
Nor i can't guarantee it yet.

I wish i'm good at words
So that i could tell
That your heart is safe as a safe

I wish i could express all those feelings
All at once since that's how i experience it right now
All of them mixed up like a dough
Getting things complicated though.

I wish i could state
That i want you to be here
Right now
Right here

I wish i could express how i feel right now
The way a poet does.

But i'm no poets
I'm not good with words
Let alone action.

Right now,
I just wish
I don't have to see you
In goodbye.

Throughout my life, i've bumped into
Too many commas
Yet, we never need a comma
In a love sentence.

Let alone a question mark
"I love you?"
Yeah that doesn't sound right
Not even quotation marks should be there
In a love sentence.

For now, i left out the apostrophe
Since i do not want to abbreviate
Every moment we spent
Abbreviation is not needed
In a love sentence.

How about an exclamation mark?
I love you so much
But an exclamation mark
Seems a little too much
We don't need that either
In a love sentence.

You.
Are the dot in every love sentence.
I would still have it without you
It was just
Incomplete
It was just
Unfinished

Hence,
I love you.
That would be it.

Hi, i'm 73.
Which means literally nothing in this country.

There are a few things i'd like to say:
I'm glad i bumped into you 82
I'm grateful befriend with 24, 51, and 90.
I feel enough with our quick interaction, 68.
Thank you for being my pair-up, 74.

In the world filled with finitely many numbers
I know that there are infinitely many numbers i haven't paired up.
Yet the space is a cartesian plane.
Where every real number would pair up at some point.
Thus, there will be infinitely many interactions.
Despite of the finitely many iterations.

I hope we interact at some moment in time
I hope we pair up at some point in space
Because the world, is just a cartesian place.
And we're all just a number in 1's eyes.

Thank you, for all the numbers i've been paired with.
Sorry, for all the number i haven't mentioned.
Although you are all finite.
My gratitude towards you all are infinite.

This is a true story; of a group consisting 3 men
Eventually chose a different path.
To paint their tragedies
Into words

1. A stand up comedian.
Tragedy equals comedy, right?
Who are we kidding?
Laughter is indeed the best medicine
Laughter is indeed the best way
To forget about problems
Not to solve them.
Sounds familiar, don't you think?
Yeah, although it's much healthier than
Being an alcoholic.
Heck, in this frickin' country
In this economy
It's cheaper too!
Thus, let's wash our pain for a while
With a little bit of wits to laugh at
Until the scars finally stain.
The scars for later to be brag on
About the kind of struggle we've been through
About the kind of pain we've endure
About the kind of meds we've swallowed to flushed it off from our systems.
Talking about the rule of three right there.

2. A novelist.
Worry equals story, isn't it?
To elaborate things
In the most profound way possible
To dazzle the readers
To amaze them
To speak to them
Without actually
Speaking to them
Making them realize that
That kind of problems do exist
In the most notorious way possible
Hiding in plain sight
Waiting for someone
To unravel the truth
Via the three acts structure.
Talking about the rule of three right there.

3. A poet.
Vulnerability equals poetry, was it?
Not covering tragedy with comedy
This is romanticizing pain
Unspeakable pain
Not because the pain is unspoken
But the speaker
Is unable to speak
The tweeter
Is unable to tweet
The chatter
Is unable to chat
Disguising itself in rhymes
Emphasizing itself in repetition
Pain–pain–pain–pain–pain
Until the word lost its meaning
Doing it over and over again
Highlighting the word that he wants to forget
Fragile–fragile–fragile
Fallen–fallen–fallen
Broken–broken­–broken
Talking about the rule of three right there.

People write
Sometimes just because they can't speak
Not because they don't have mouth
But because they don't have the ability to
Or because they don't choose to

Speak for yourself!
And that's exactly what people did
By writing punchlines
By vomitting stories from their brain
By arranging the shattered pieces of themselves
Into letters
Into words
Into sentences
Into bits or paragraphs or verses
Into a whole

Write–write–write–write–write–write
Over and over again
Until it lost its meaning.