it’s my fault.

(tw: abuse)

and if you hit me
one day,
i’ll understand why.
i’ll completely understand why,
and i won’t ask you to stop.



I can still feel

millions of strings

tying my feet to the ground.

Why can’t I get back up?

Why can’t I soar up high?

Why can’t I smile again?

One of those strings is you;

telling me

that you



Another is also you, telling me that

you cared about me;

that I’m too precious

to be hurting myself

like that.

Another is, once again, you;

telling me that when I

hurt myself, I am also



Another is you telling me that I am too much of a burden. Another is you telling me that my feelings are too much for you. Another is you telling me to stop trying to message you so much. Another is you turning your back away, telling me to go home when I told you that I needed to talk to you. Another is you, blaming me when I can’t meet you the next time because I was away. Another is you ignoring me on purpose every time we pass each other by on school corridors. Another is you only talking to me when you have something you need from me, and that something is always sex. Another is you telling me that my feelings no longer matter to you. Another is you telling me that what we had no longer matters to you. Another is you telling me that I no longer matter to you.

Another is you, telling me, to go on continue carving scars after scars on my skin and wishing for myself to die;

because you

no longer



5 years have passed and I’m still trying to get back up.

I still trip every single time.


For this one 11:11, I dedicate my wish to you.

Sometimes I cannot fathom the fact that we’ve only really known each other for at least a year, and we’ve only started talking to each other since then. It doesn’t make sense to me how someone I’ve known for such a small amount of time can feel more familiar and more comfortable than some other people I’ve known for most of my life.

It always feels so odd talking to you. You’re the only person I’m okay holding a 2+ hours phonecall with. You’re the only person I know that I’ve ever felt comfortable talking to at late hours, all the way until 3 a.m., talking about the most private and personal parts of my life when I’ve only started talking to you regularly in less than 2 weeks.

All my life I’ve never been more thankful of having the chance to meet someone, before I met you.

Alright, so it’s your 21st birthday. Starting from this day you are now able to buy alcohol very legally with your ID, among with literally any other things that are often still illegal to do even after you’re 18, and I am very jealous of you.

(you still can’t drink alcohol, though. It’s for the good of your own stomach.)

This 11:11, I only have one wish for you: 


Keep on growing, even when the ground is rough and dry. Break through the surface even if it’s concrete floor. Stay true to yourself. Life hasn’t been so kind to you lately, and things may have been tough, but you will persevere. You will march on, you will go through it and figure things out no matter what life throws at you,

and you’ll always have support. I will not let you down. When you feel like you can’t stand on your own, my hand is always here for you to hold. Lean on me until you feel like you’re strong enough.

And in the end, I know you’ll always be strong enough.

Happy early 21st birthday, starshine. May you shine bright as always.

day 1 – to the one who’s left us.


Ragamu telah rapuh,

Jiwamu lelah dibawa mengembara.

(Sembilan puluh tiga tahun bukan waktu yang singkat.)


Seperti apa kau menginginkan kepulanganmu?


Dengan tenang,

dalam sunyi,

seperti dentingan piano yang lamat-lamat terdengar di malam hari.



Dengan dentuman,


dan keramaian seperti layaknya hari kelahiran?

(kau terlalu tua untuk ini.)


Bukan secara paksa,

bukan seperti ini,

bukan dengan selingkar tali

dalam sebuah ruangan, dalam sendiri,

dalam sepi.


Namun matamu terpejam sama eratnya.

Namun tidur panjangmu sama lelapnya.


we bled for our love;

dear god, we bled

for our love.

“because we are still

flesh and blood. because

we are not

yet stardust.”

and until the day

we returned into the arms

of the constellations above,

let our mortal bodies turn 

black and blue.

let me ache with the pain

of longing

for you.