Act Five: akan kubalas

mengapa...?
mengapa kau lempar aku?
kau campakkan bagai sepatu balet usang
kenapa...?
tak cukup baikkah aku?
tak cukup sabarkah aku?

perih ... perih sekali
irisan panjang di lengan
pisau di tangan
tak sebanding dengan luka hatiku

kuingat wajahmu
pandangan terakhir saat mereka menendangku keluar
seperti aku ini sampah
tiada artinya bagimu

pelacur! wanita jalang! murahan!
kuteriakkan itu, kuteriakkan namamu
darah di tangan terus menetes
air mata terus mengucur
tapi hatiku tak akan sembuh
aku benci kamu! aku benci!

aku mengerti sekarang
ada yang lain di hatimu
siapa dia?
salah satu dari bajingan yang melemparku?
atau dua? tiga?
semuanya?
pelacur!!!

aku ingin mati
aku ingin mati
Tuhan! Tuhan!!!
biarkan aku mati
sambar aku dengan petir
biarkan neraka menganga di bawah kakiku

tidak!
tidak ada Tuhan
cuma setan
setan cantik yang menari
aku jatuh ke tangannya
tidak ada Tuhan
tidak untukku

aku ingin mati
aku ingin mengakhiri ini
aku lelah menangis
aku usai berkabung
aku akan mati
tapi tidak saat ini
tidak sendiri

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Uncertain

It has been a good minute since the last post, hasn't it? Everyone else is moving with their lives, some of them away from myself. That's not necessarily bad. Some bridges needed burning. Some friendships needed breaking. Some people need growing. So where do I fall? I am stationary. No, silly, not pencils, erasers and clicky things that smell nice. I'm still, although I move daily. There are things that are improving, like the size of my belly and the amount of energy I feel I have. There is more freedom, even in this small space. I have new... should I call them acquaintances? We're not friends. Connections? Maybe that's a more suitable word. We do little else but fuck, so seems too much to put any effort in worrying about it. And I finally did it. I am strawberry blonde on a good day, darker brown with highlights on others. Then there's the silence. I have so much of it. An abundance of quiet to share. The biggest uncertainty comes from the fear that I a
Read more

Dreams.

Perfection is the stuff of dreams. If this is true, then I'm having a nightmare. I never knew perfect sadness is possible. You can't be perfectly sad. There has to be a bit of happiness in there somewhere. Or so I used to believe. The world loves to prove you wrong. It has a sick sense of humor. I am perfectly sad. Perfect sadness is the stuff of nightmares. I know of nightmares very well. I have chosen not to sleep tonight. I don't know when sleep will come. It's the dreams I fear. That's where I see him, all the time, in so many different ways. Compared to things other people have experienced, other griefs, other pains, other sufferings, mine does not compare. This is only a broken heart. This is only disappointment. This is only the pain I feel because I think things are unfair. I thought I was special. I wanted to be special. But I think he kissed her, and he hugged her for such a long time. Longer than he did me. And I realized the truth. I am not special. I am
Read more

Ujan ayam, cu...

Percakapan jam 2 pagi antara gue dan... temen gue temen gue: eh eh........ gw dah mulai merem2 nih gue: wah... gue: tandanya apa tuh mbah?? temen gue: tandanya besok ujan ayam cu..... gue: aduuuuh... gue: padahal saya besok musti kerja gue: kan repot gali kubur kalo lagi ujan ayam mbah temen gue: ya kata pepatah, siap2 payung... temen gue: kalo kali ini siap2 wajan temen gue: :P gue: payung saya bolong semua gara2 ujan kambing terakhir mbah temen gue: waduh.... ujan kambing.... gue: itu pertanda dolar naek kan? temen gue: ya masih mending daripada kalo mbah ampe ngiler.... temen gue: bisa ujan sapi ntar cu Moralnya, jangan ngobrol sama orang gila pagi". Apalagi kalo lusa udah mau exam.
Read more