afterlife in a glass of orange juice
a pierce at the centre of my chest
i thought the sounds of the world are not that amazing
and i grew tired of my own reflection on my mobile phone screen
i was an itch that would never go away
the ghost in your grandmother’s picture
and all the while you stay still
soaked in your bathtub
rubadubdub
i like stories
ending with somebody drowning
and smelling good
Like this:
Like Loading...
Related
Published by violeteye
Gratiagusti Chananya Rompas was born in Jakarta, 19 August 1979. She studied English Literature in Universitas Indonesia, Depok (2003) and received her masters in The Gothic Imagination from University of Stirling, Scotland (2005).
She is one of the founders of Komunitas BungaMatahari, a mailing list-based Indonesian poetry community that have embraced many poetry enthusiasts with its catchphrase “semua bisa berpuisi” or, roughly translated, “poetry for all”. She is also involved in Selatan, a literary journal, and Paviliun Puisi, a monthly open mic event--both managed by her and her like-minded friends.
She currently resides in Jakarta, trying to find balance between writing and day-to-day living.
View all posts by violeteye
One thought on “a short story”