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The blueish painted butterflies
Renewed—but two—as soot cocoons.
Their tapping hues were kindly passed
To swingers (tutti) both attuned.
Too true, as dozenth roots of two
ingrained in Sound; no one immune
from the ever-known, ever-asked
Desire–Envy in the noon.
Please
Pick up my call
For the sky will fall
And the last thing I want to hear
Is your soul.
(Original version - Indonesian)

Nada Sambung

Tolong
angkat teleponku
sebab langit akan runtuh
dan suara terakhir yang ingin kudengar
adalah suaramu.
I'm left wondering if anyone is
really worth taking up your space
and your time,
if anyone is worthy of trying to take you in, wrap you up, make you theirs
pluck you like a pretty flower and take away your air  

why should they be aloud to come in and mess you all up
and make you believe in something that isn't
and take all those little pieces of you that were once what made you,
YOU
the good stuff, the real stuff, the things that made you beautiful inside,
before they stole them, or **** on them or made you feel like they weren't worthy of being

that's what happens when people think they fall in love,
all they are really doing is stealing precious roots from a person's soul,
changing them up to make them the person in their mind that they want you to be, not who you truly are

I'm left looking at a reflection of a person that I have no idea who that is, just a shell with my face on it,
an empty stomach and an even emptier heart
because someone told me they loved me and stole all of my light to take for themselves
too greedy to let a beautiful thing bloom
whichever comes first
an arch or its point
you scratched on

a question mark
can not answer
the question itself

indeed so — even
in languages
which hasn't been created
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