Stitch by Stitch

It's red, enchained with breathless
Soulful tissue
Welp, what's the scratch over there?
It's darken, a bit faded, but still
Visible

Once it was open
A blade stabbed it, wounded it
It was bleeding,
Drop by drop

It's red, engraved with
Scratches here and there
You see the rusty clingy clock hanging?
Tick, tick, tick, tick
It dried the blood
It healed
Stitch by stitch

Now that it
Recovered
Here lies, the dark red one
That you want to stab
That you want to wound

Even drop by drop
The blood red blood
Fall and fall and fall
The rusty clock will
Tick and tick and tick
Mend it
Stitch by stitch,
By stitch.


Ika Septianasari

Depok, 21 February 2012

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Fire Dance

Searching, staring, into the field Softly through the humming silence Flowing stillness, the caressing waves Her fire, her spirit, her floating hair Breathing, colour, the trace she weaves The shimmer, the light, the dance of fire Formed, ceaseless, organic rhythm The drum, the crackle, the deepest dark Touching, beauty, beyond the moment In time, she lives, behind my eyelids AIKA Markham, ON, CA 28062018
Read more

Stay

Never know how to feel, Something you steal When you look at me With your eyes, as blue as the sea Never know what to say, Seeing you every day So close yet so far You and I are Never know where to go, Time can be very slow When the fire inside is suppressed Suffocated, in my chest But I know this: Those hands I wanna hold ‘till my hair turns grey and old Those eyes I wanna stare into All day and night through Those lips I wanna kiss Because that’s where I find bliss That chest I wanna lay on From dusk till dawn. Please stay. AIKA Sarnia, ON, CA 19062018
Read more

Is That Love?

The night confides to the moon, That his soul is not as dark as it always seems. The sun proudly lingers on the noon, Makes him madly regret, that he belongs on the other side of the time continuum. One shall not ponder Of where the wind would blow Air is an invisible matter one would wonder Its existence is dictated merely on its flow So what would happen that the air is unseen? What state of mind would you clearly see it in? Shall you be broken? To realize one’s wholeness? Shall you be beaten? To see one’s roundness? Running and running in circle Like a dog chasing its tail Looking for a thing to hold in this bubble What possibly could make us fail? Love is no more than an infinite shades of colors Just like… morning One would think it is a new beginning One would see it as the time for returning Fire, oh the fire embodied in every molecule Preserve it as a jewel For when it’s dimmed and faded One would become jaded ...
Read more