Sad — Tember

Reza Fahlevi
2 min readSep 15, 2024

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Photo by Alice Kotlyarenko on Unsplash

When people ask, “September… where does the S belong to?”

Some migth say, “it’s sex.”

I’d say, “it’s a sadness.”

I was born in it — I am a September boy who grew up to be a 28 man — now on.

Nine is my number — 1-9-9-6 is a symbol of my birth.

I breathe… I live… I see… I feel… I’ve experienced many things. Some have made me realized… the others just left so much questions of “why”.

This is a love writing

This is a numb poetry

This is what I want to tell her; I can’t ignore her though only for one second.

I was born… putting my feet on the ground… staring up my eyes away to the sky… I wonder; who is she? Why does she came up upon to me? Why did she look at me at that way? Why did she turn her lips to smile over me? Those have led me to fall to her.

Yet

I’m still not able to sense her existance right within my heartbeat.

I still can’t feel her come closer next to me.

I’m asking why… “why she hasn’t arrived yet…?” while I am wishing too much.

I’m just asking of why… “why she doesn’t have the same feeling as I do…?” while I am praying in all days to You in my silence.

Oh shit… I’m all alone.

Shit… I’m not able to celebrate my special moment with someone special.

This is how it’d be…

This is the reality…

Like burrying my holy dream… I give my love with a girl who is unable loving me back.

Like sinking down deep in the ocean… I can’t let her by, yet she just ignores me.

I feel like dying… Becoming so numb and losing my way.

So terrifying on how I walk to reach my holy dream. And this dream — slowly — becoming a nightmare.

Can I at least find her before time runs out?

Can I at least meet that girl before I move to the afterlife?

The light within me seems blackout gradually.

I feel no more yet only pain… leaving me a serious wound.

I feel no more the same on how I see this beautiful world.

I feel no pleasure inside of my life.

So cold…

So dark…

So painful…

I’m all alone… in this September.

And this lonely drags me to be within a poem of sorrow — something that leads me to be a weak man ever.

— Breaking Reza —

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Reza Fahlevi
Reza Fahlevi

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