3-In-1 Project: Bayangan, by Mentari Sandiastri

Untuk kau yang aku inginkan, namun belum menjadi milik kami.

Apa kabar? Kuharap kau sedang bersenang-senang di sana. Kami di sini baik-baik saja, walaupun cuaca panas sekali. Seringkali kami tertawa, membayangkan dirimu bersama Tuhan di atas sana berkelakar sambil mengarahkan matahari ke arah kami. Seperti apa cuaca di sana? Pasti menyejukkan. Penuh dengan angin yang membuai menenangkan. Ah, tak heran kau betah di sana. Sementara di sini kami berkeringat, kau bersantai di sana di bawah teduhnya tangan Tuhan. Kadang aku berpikir, jiwa-jiwa sepertimu sungguh beruntung bisa begitu dekat denganNya!

3-In-1 Project: Namaku Likat, by Elen Yulance

Harapan adalah obat penenang bagi jiwa yang berteriak menggeliang. Pemuas dahaga musafir yang berkhayal akan negeri yang mereka sebut ‘surga’. Harapan adalah kata-kata hiburan yang mengalihkan dunia nyata, menjadi bias dan tak berdimensi. Maka hidup adalah film bergerak pembuktian ada atau tidaknya harapan

            Aku dipanggil Likat. Penuh kesabaran, demikianlah namaku diartikan. Setiap hari adalah perjuangan bagiku. Bergumul dengan keinginan untuk meneruskan hidup atau menjadikannya kenangan bagi yang kutinggalkan. Tunggu dulu! Siapa yang aku tinggalkan?. Perasaanku saja. Sebatang kara aku menghabiskan hari-hari sejak empat tahun yang lalu. Hidup tiap paginya serasa menjejalkan garam pada luka yang terbuka menganga. Begitu perih dan meradang makin parah. Hingga akhirnya aku merasakan hal yang berbeda. Inilah monolog kehidupanku. Dapatkah kau pada akhirnya memberikan definisi harapan dari kisahku?

3-In-1 Project: Bertemu (Dia) Kamu, by Desva Herzani

Untuk seseorang yang tidak mungkin kusebutkan namanya...

Kala itu langit berdarah mencipratkan semburat merah jambu di angkasa. Menyongsong parade kepulangan siang dan berpesta menyambut sang malam. Aku yang terdampar sendiri di sini, dengan pesawat kelas ekonomi yang jauh melayang dari ibu kota. Menapaki keramaian Yogyakarta yang mulai dikepung alunan musik dan nyanyian di tepi jalan. Lama rasanya kebisingan bisa terasa menenangkan, juga menyenangkan. 

"Karina..." kemudian suara itu menyapaku dari belakang.

Seolah sedang menepuk punggungku dengan kehangatan. Aku menoleh. Aku hanya bisa tersenyum. Melihat wajah nakal jenaka itu tersenyum lagi. Raut jahil yang kembali dapat kutatap langsung dengan kedua bola mataku.

"Adrian..." 

3-In-1 Project: Alunan Senja, by Anitya Wahdini

My gift is my song

And this one’s for  you...

Hari belum usai, namun sudah terasa begitu melelahkan. Kulirik arlojiku. Saat ini pukul 17.30 dan aku masih menyusuri lorong sekolah, dengan rambut ekor kuda acak-acakan, sepatu keds yang talinya tidak diikat dengan benar, dan kaos olah raga yang penuh keringat. Benar-benar bukan penampilan terbaikku.

Klub modern dance yang membuatku seperti ini. Setiap Jumat sore, Kak Joy, pelatih dance kami, memang agak sedikit lebih kejam dari biasanya. Mungkin dipikirnya, esok sudah weekend, sehingga ia seolah mendapat izin untuk memforsir kami hingga tetes keringat terakhir untuk menyelesaikan koreografi ciptaannya.

Dan hari ini, aku benar-benar merasa lebih lelah dari biasanya. Seribu kali lipat! Kak Joy memarahiku berulang-ulang karena aku membuat banyak kesalahan. Ia bahkan menghukumku merapikan studio tari setelah aku melakukan kesalahan fatal, terjatuh saat berada di puncak piramida.

The Boy Who Wants to Fly

He is listening to the radio as I enter his room with a tray of breakfast - two slices of toast, butter, and a glass of milk because he wouldn't take anything else. The annoyingly jovial breakfast show broadcasters are talking about some exotic holiday destinations. I doubt that he understands any word, but I know he really enjoys the sound the device makes. His eyes wander across the room, dark since the curtain hasn't been opened yet. Finally he acknowledges my presence and I smile at him.

"Good morning, Mr Evans," I say, putting the tray on a small table across where he's sitting. "Hungry yet? Fresh milk today, just the way you like it. And why is it so dark here?" I open the curtain and he squints.

I give him an apologetic look, and he takes his milk. He takes a sip, and then puts the glass back down without a word. I sigh.

Rasa

“Aku takkan mati.”

Kata-kata itu terus terngiang di benak Roy, meskipun tiga minggu telah berlalu. Ia masih hafal betul getaran setiap suku kata. Menusuk setiap jengkal pori-pori kulitnya seperti angin musim dingin. Roy bukan pria penakut. Ia telah menghadapi berbagai ancaman, ujian, dan pertempuran. Tak satu pun dapat melumpuhkannya. Tetapi tiga kata itu terus mengangkat bulu romanya. Roy memejamkan mata, tapi cepat-cepat ia membukanya lagi. Dalam gelap, kata-kata itu menggema dan terdengar makin keras. Fungsi otak dan telinganya jauh meningkat ketika matanya terpejam. Roy membenamkan kepalanya di tangannya yang kasar, dan telapak tangannya menyentuh rambut pirangnya yang basah penuh keringat.

The Loft

I can't stay outside
Standing is getting me exhausted
Try to find a reason
Try to find a way with none

Yesterday

Yesterday, days beckoning
I fell in love with you, but was it imagination only?
I sense no trace, I smell no grace
Of the love that we shared
But I feel it so deeply, I want you so badly
Were you the one dancing around in my fantasy?
I'd never seen you before
But I missed you as soon as you went
I never saw it, I never felt it
Any sign of romance
But your bright eyes are there in front of me
Reminding me of what so little I had yesterday
I fell in love with you
I fell in love with you

Perth, WA, Australia

22 January 2015

September 11, 2014

Imagine a day darker than this
When crying children become a common view
Sadly those children are none of the riches
So that such a common view is well beyond you

When crying children become a common view
If they are far from the lenses no one will cry over them so
So that such a common view is well beyond you
And their tears and screams may just pass and then be let go

Room 15.205

Edith Cowan University, Mt Lawley, Perth

September 15, 2014

Some Reflection From the Couch

It was a cloudy day not so long ago
I loved it when it rained, but not that day
It was a cold day. The cold tiles made it even more so
And my eyelids were heavy, trying to drift me away

I heard a sound, calling out to me
A sound that was not foreign, but long I had forgotten
It said, "Are you in for a journey of rediscovery?"
I was startled, for I felt the fading of my loathed burden

Kabut Benak

Samar
Nampaknya bias, sini dan sana
Pun tak satu noktah terpandang jelas
Buram, yang ada hanya blur
Seperti kabut yang merekah mengawal fajar
Gelisah, terdiam aku
Berdiri sembari berusaha menyibak ketidakjelasan

Calling All Angels

Long way she'd been through
Lights had shone on her
So had darkness come

She was the girl that
Started it all at
That church in Newark

Could we all have known
How soon she would've gone
Could we all have known?

All the Way

Type: Fan fiction
Genre: Angst, hurt/comfort
Rating: K+
Fandom: Law & Order: Special Victims Unit
Disclaimer: I own nothing but the fic.

It was a chilly morning when she arrived.

A big signboard greeted her. Or, she thought, mocked her. She sighed. She never thought that life would lead her to this point. Never, even in her wildest imagination. She tried to hold back her tears. She was strong. It was no secret that Alex Cabot, the Ice Queen of an ADA, never cried. But this time she did anyway. She felt a few drops of water filling her eyes. She didn't care. After all, for awhile she would not be Alexandra Cabot. That name, with all its glory, she had to throw away for Heaven knew how long. Again, she sighed.

Gone with Regrets

As you died, part of me was gone, too.

It sounds so much of a cliché, but it is beyond true. I am now a different person than I was when you were around. Everybody says so, and I couldn’t agree more. A huge part of me left as you did. That part left me a person I am now. A person I don’t even recognize. A stranger to myself.

You were part of me. You were my partner, mentor, best friend. You were whatever I needed you to be. You were always there for me. It was always you. Not my sister, not my parents. It was you.

But I was so selfish that I wanted more. I wanted you to be more than my partner, more than my best friend. I wanted you. It was inevitable. We spent too much time together, much to my liking. It was a torture—for you didn’t know how I truly felt about you in those times we’d spent together, but it was sweet at the same time. It was a beautiful agony.

Boom Boom

There she's walking
Racquet in her hand
Brave steps she's taking
On the court, a grassed land

What lies ahead?
Nobody knows the answer
What will she get?
Only our Lord knows what to give her

Pulang

Untuk entah keberapa kalinya ia baca ketiga surat itu. Surat pelipur lara, pengingat bahwa masih ada yang berharga di dunia ini yang ia miliki. Tak ada kata-kata bersayap, tak ada majas-majas manis ala penyair, tetapi baginya kata demi kata dalam surat-surat itu lebih indah dari syair manapun. Kata-kata itu yang dengan hangat menyentuh hatinya yang dingin, dengan setia menemaninya di kala sepi menghampiri.

Tuhan berkati, Anakku, lekaslah pulang. Kata surat pertama. Surat yang ditulis seorang ibunda yang tak henti-hentinya merapal doa setiap malam, memohon agar putra kesayangannya lekas kembali dengan selamat. Hati sang putra pedih membayangkan air mata ibunya yang tumpah di lantai gereja di kampung halaman mereka, suaranya yang parau memohon hal yang sama kepada Tuhan. Ia teringat ketika ia masih kecil, tak lebih dari tujuh tahun usianya, dibawa sang ibu melihat parade tentara berseragam yang gagah.

Sleep

Goodnight, sleep tight, my Friend
The day has come to an end
See the stars shining brightly out there
Waiting for you to have some dreams to share

This day has been pretty tough
Close your eyes and forget what all happened to be rough
Relax, I will be there
I am not going anywhere