The feet that hold every burden Therefore I am standing on my own Start to swell, hurt, tired My eyes already been sore Gazing to someone I used to know Only half hearted feeling Yet the other half departed without message I feel sad, I feel anger But at what point should I be mourning? My hands are dirt Her hands are cloth My heart is a scissor Her heart is a paper What another mistake have I done? She cried herself a river Every teardrop says enough about me Disappointment Sadness Uncertainty If only I could flip the hour glass Where the sands rewind the time Taking us to where I haven’t sinned I must have thought To keep my hands away from you Here I just sit By myself, only gentle wind caress my skin The whispering of the unknown Begging “When will I finally learn?”
Written by Marcellinus Fabian Christ Nugroho
Illustration by Amellia Ayudya Marsha