LEFT

The traces you left;
In front of my door,
on the couch,
in the living room,
on your clothes,
in my head,
echoing & haunting.

But the traces were never actually
there.
It's only in my head,
echoing & haunting.

I'm left with nothing
except these papers,
there's number in it.
"Call these numbers if you miss me"

I tried,
no one answered.
No one heard me.
Until one day I realized,
people never left.
I made them left.

-an

*puisi terinspirasi dari kisah seorang Nenek dekat kantor yang selalu duduk di teras rumahnya & meminta setiap orang yang lewat untuk menelfon saudaranya

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