Poem: Love Letter

Watching the sunset inside my own room as I twirl the pen in my hand.

The blank paper stay lifelessly on top of the table.

Patiently waiting for the inks to pay a visit.

Waiting for me to start making up my mind and decide what I want to do.

And that is why I am thinking hard.

Thinking of what to do to pass my time.

Thinking of something to show my feelings right now.

The feeling that are being overwhelmed.

The feeling like I’m being filled with butterflies.

A weird feeling indeed.

A thought came to my mind as I stare out the window.

Watching birds flying in flocks.

Seemingly like white angels trying to spread happiness to the whole wide world.

Why won’t they come to me?

And give me a piece of that small heaven they are carrying.

Something that would give me inspiration.

Something that would let me know, what I should do right now.

To show the feelings that are being kept inside of me.

The feeling that are even unknown to myself.

The feelings that are being kept a secret by my heart.

 

I suddenly stop thinking and started watching the butterflies playing with my head.

No doubt, this is when the idea embraced me

Exactly the moment my brain started taking in the images of the beautiful butterflies.

Something that is simple and straight-forward.

Something that would just flow fluently from my brain, connected with my heart.

Though this is the first time in my life that I am thinking of writing a letter.

A letter to someone that I do not know.

A letter that contain something that is a secret.

Even to me.

My courageous pen still stay at my hand.

Though it is a bit awkward to see it stay so rigidly,

In contrast with how actively it had always seems to be dancing before.

Now, it looks so serious at the palm of my hand, still waiting for my brain to make up its mind.

Of  what I should write.

Without any notice, suddenly my face blush.

Heat started to flows to the top of my head making me dizzy.

Surely this is only a trick of my heart?

Since all that came to my mind is you.

I stop to think as I started out into spaces again.

Should I write you a love letter?

A girly, flowery, pretty love letter?

Something that I could pour my heart into?

Giving you a secret door to myself.

That had never been open before by anyone else.

Should I do that?

For you to understand my feeling?

The feeling that I have been hiding.

The doki, doki sound my heart are making when you are around.

Ah! Suddenly feel like I am such an idiot.

This is the effect when I started thinking of you.

My thought started becoming shorter and all I can think is how sweet you are.

Whenever you are with me.

And also how I can’t stand it when you are with another girls.

Though you always say that they are all just your friends.

Friends that I know hold feelings for you.

Did you know that too?

Ah! Why am I still thinking about this?

Why is it that the thoughts of you are filling up my brain?

Even at the time, when I got a letter to write.

Ah! Could it be the reason is because,

I am thinking of you always?

Even when you aren’t there beside me.

The thought of you kept on filling up the my head.

As easily as the oxygen being taken in.

Maybe I am even addicted to you?

So, should I write you a love letter?

A girly, flowery, scented love letter?

Even though both of us know that is not the type of girl I am.

But, is the type of girl I am, the type of girl that you like?

Sometimes I even wonder,

Have you ever see me as girl?

More rightly, have you ever see the girl deep inside of me?

The fluffy type of girl that had always been there

But, is always too scared to come out.

Too scared to step up for fear of breaking her own heart.

I want to write you a love letter.

A girly, flowery, frilly love letter.

That would convey my feeling.

The love I hold towards you.

Maybe I should do that.

If that’s what it takes to you notice me more.

Benci Tapi Cinta - Prolog

“Baru sikit dah nak mengeluh.” Muaz Fakrul tersenyum melihat gadis di hadapannya yang sudah menyembamkan muka di atas lapisan kasar buku latihannya.

            “Ana bukan macam Rul. Ulat buku.” Senyuman Fakrul makin lebar melihat gadis itu, yang masih tidak mengangkat kepalanya.

            “Mana ada. Ana yang malas.” Untuk ini, satu jelingan tajam dihadiahkannya.

            “Yelah.. Sebab tu Rul kena susah payah ajar Ana.” Shahira Allyana mengeluh.

            “Tak payah nak susah sangatlah kan..” Balas Fakrul, dan senyuman nipis terukir di bibir Allyana. Fakrul mengalihkan pandangan ke arah jam dinding yang menunjukkan waktu hampir ke titik 12 tengah hari.

            “Nak makan apa?” Soal Fakrul, membuatkan Allyana mendongak.

            “Rul nak masak untuk Ana?” Soal Allyana pula, sengaja mengusik.

            “Masalah?” Balas Fakrul, sebelum berlalu ke dapur tanpa menunggu jawapan Allyana yang masih terpaku.

            “Jangan sampai terbakar dapur!” Jerit Allyana, senyuman terukir di bibirnya.

“Ana! Batuk hari tu dah okay belum? Rul bubuh ais boleh?”

            “Hisy.. orang susah payah masak, dia pula sedap-sedap tidur.” Ujar Fakrul setelah melihat Allyana tertidur bersandarkan sofa.

            “Cik adik…bangunlah..”

            “Hmmm…” Gadis itu mengalihkan sedikit kepalanya, mencari sudut selesa.

            “Dia ni.. Bukan dia baca buku, buku yang baca dia.” Kata Fakrul sebelum melutut untuk mengemas buku-buku yang telah menjadi tumpuan mereka sejak hampir 4 jam tadi.

            “Cik kak..makanan dah siap, bangun cepat..”

“Aik? Mengingau ke?” Ujar Fakrul, mengukir senyuman bila suara kecil keluar dari bibir Allyana yang masih asyik tidur. Jejaka itu mendekatkan lagi dirinya, mencuba untuk mendengar dengan lebih jelas.

“Rul! Kenapa tinggal kipas kat dapur tu? Kemas pun tak, dah lari ke depan. Ya allah, anak dara ni.” Suara kuat itu mengejutkan Allyana dari tidur. Dengan mata yang masih kurang fokus, Allyana memandang jejaka yang sudah pun berdiri di depannya.

“Uiit..cik Shahira Allyana..apa sopan sangat tidur kat rumah orang ni?”

“Penatlah abang Muaz.. Belajar tak da RNR langsung.. Terus je, kereta pun boleh habis minyak.” Tersengih Allyana memberi alasan kepada Muaz Haziq.

“Yelah tu. Pandailah dia ni.”

“Ana pergi sekolah, memanglah pandai.”

“Lagi lama abang layan Ana, makin gila lagi jawapan. Sudah, cukuplah gelak macam pontianak cari anak. Ni, apa Rul dan Ana buat? Dapur tinggal macam tu saja.” Kata Muaz menunjukkan ke arah dapur yang baru ditinggalkan tadi.

“Eh? Tadi Rul yang masak. Dia tak ada kat dapur?” Sesaat itu, Fakrul melangkah masuk ke dalam rumah dengan muka yang bagaikan tiada emosi membuatkan 2 pasang mata itu terus tersangkut kepadanya.

“Ya Allah. Rul! Kenapa dengan tangan Rul?” Suara Allyana bagaikan separa menjerit dengan jari menunjuk ke arah darah yang perlahan menitik dari buku lima Fakrul. Namun, jejaka itu masih diam. Hanya matanya bagaikan tergam kepada Allyana.

“Ana, pergi kat dapur. Ambik peti kecemasan di kabinet yang kedua.” Arah Muaz, menolak lembut Fakrul ke atas kerusi sambil menahan darah yang masih mengalir dengan tisu.

“Rul buat apa tadi? Sampai berdarah macam ni?” Ujar Muaz. Jejaka itu lincah membalut tangan Fakrul, mempraktikkan skill paramediknya.

“Rul tak buat apa-apa pun.” Perlahan suara Fakrul, matanya sudah memandang ke lantai. Muaz menjeling ke arah tangan kiri adiknya itu. Digenggam erat, bagaikan menahan rasa sakit yang teramat. Namun, mukanya masih bagaikan tiada emosi.

“Tak mungkinlah tak ada apa-apa boleh berdarah macam ni.” Ujar Allyana, nadanya risau bercampur marah. Fakrul mengangkat kepalanya dan sekali lagi melihat Allyana. Sekilas rasa sakit bagaikan terukir di wajah Fakrul, sebelum dia menunduk kembali.

“Dah habis balut, kan? Tak perlu nak soal siasat Rul lagi kan?” Kedua-dua manusia di hadapannya terbelik apabila Fakrul menolak tangan Muaz dan meneruskan langkahnya ke tingkat atas.

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PS: So...tolong bagi pendapat? Okay? Anything to fix? Pelik sangat? Keliru?