a question

can I hold your hands?
I feel filthy before you

not the ashes on my skin
but it is one that is inside

and I am on the edge
If I fall, I fall
but I still have the chance to step behind
should I?

can I hold your hands
I feel filthy before you
will you let me fall?
or am I not allowed to

Copyright © Fransiska Damarratri 2011

blanket of fear

have you ever slept in a blanket of fear
do you have yours?
I do have mine
and when I sleep, I leave the door ajar
so my mother can hear my scream
so I scream, but I scream in my dream

in my dream I break my rosary
in my dream I am an atheist
although I remember so dear the night I hold the prayer
with the holy grains between my fingers
and my cheeks are wet of tears

in my dream, I don’t do solitude
instead I walk around half nude
with bunch of dancers behind me
I stroll around the city
although I know I have stretch marks, because I used to be fat
it is like a slap mark, telling the world you are punished
it is like a scar, telling the world you are injured

sometimes I am awake, but not for so long
because in a blanket of fear, lullaby is the song
and when I slumber, I do stumble
each word that I mumble is a sign that I will tumble

I am waiting for the waking up
you are so lucky that my door is opened

with the other doors, sometimes you have to knock
with the other doors, sometimes it has been locked
and nobody knows what is going on inside
the struggle when the blanket holds too tight

but why you never come
and make the blanket gone

Copyright © Fransiska Damarratri 2011