The Look of It

Life’s a bit unfair, lately…

Or so do I thought.

It is a bit too much of everything.

The crossroads are through,

But not really though.

A little by a little, you started to lose yourself.

Devoured by the rhythm of mistakes,

You never knew would be so cruel.

You lost chances, and your loved ones hurt more.

Life’s a bit pristine, recently…

Or so do some thought.

How should we cope with the guilt of losing the things we lost,

That we don’t own?

As life’s a bit dragging,

You never knew it would be so cruel.

It throws you into regrets,

You blame yourself.

Until you can’t anymore.

But nothing you can feel more or less,

Life’s making you to love yourself less. And less it becomes…

As life’s a bit funny,

The love you get was so much,

Until you realized it,

It has changed a bit much.

Or that’s just the look of it?

 

 

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More Than a Shiver

It is the waiting that kills
Each second amuses the mind with
Playful scenario of how it would go
And stay, or leave…

Little by little, that happens.
That doesn’t. Build up a house of mockery.
Self disempowering, self neglecting.

Until the anger takes the stage.
It throws everything to protect
Its defense is offensive,
It knows only how to fight…
Coz anger was born from feeling not safe.
Realizing now one will come to rescue,
But oneself.

And the next are the tears.
They try to clean the warfield.
Wash the flame of anger,
Because they know…
It is wrong and right at the same time.
Who can judge. When you hurt when you’re hurt.

But acception is rarely ever the end
Denial is the loyal visitor
In the end,
All will turn to ego to go.
You know it happens,
It is more than a shiver.

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I Paperplane You

How can I don’t fly?
When you give me all good, better than all I can expect.
Treat me so well, though I act like hell.
Do me so much love, while I’m really hateable.

And you bring me to more than one heaven.
You told me that getting lost is fun,
I started to believe in that.

I have the things you don’t like,
you do the things I don’t like,
but why it doesn’t matter that much anymore.

When you are not around,
and I am doing nothing related to you,
The memories of us can knock my head,
like your ruffle on the top of my head,
and this sillyness, drags my lips to smile.

How can I explain this?
I don’t know for sure,
I am starting to enjoy this.

I’m grateful for this flight, I paperplane you…

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Serigala Tanpa Ekor

Serigala yang lebih sadis,
hidup atau mati… Siapa yang rela?
Beda, dia tanpa ekor.
Tanpa cara memahami cinta
untuk sendirinya,

hanya melolong
di tengah-tengah,
antara bulan… bukit gelap,
dan gulita yang biru lebam.

Taringnya menangis,
merah penuh marah, kadang setengah iba.
Karena dia tanpa ekor. 
Setengahnya lagi, berkilau duka.

Lupakan senja,
Bulan yang setengah saja
tiba-tiba gerhana.
Bagai tutup mata, dan buka mulut. 
Merintih, merintih pada benci.
Pada sendiri.

Lukanya menyakiti,
Dari lahir tanpa ekor.
Tanpa cinta, sang serigala.
Hanya melolong,
menyapa kabut… merangkul pelukan abu-abu,
yang dicari, lewat gigi-gigi tajam.

Serigala tanpa ekor,
kapan ada yang menyayangi?

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Self-Forgetting

It grows, without notice nor whisper… but the night that screams,
calls upon the 58 drafts of versusable self-debate. That, I wrote.
One of them was this, titled with Feeling Blue & Pink:

“I can describe it as having words unspoken
or love unchannelled, stuck in my own heart,
the feeling lingers like orange on fingers.
it’s tasty yet somehow rusty, expired to sour evil
…a feeling of being dizzy with your head on level.”

Layers of thought are found,
upon opening a drama almost named with Happiness is Sad.

Conclusion is very near to say the brain is so heart-conquered,
giving birth to wicked speeches from the womb of bloody battlefield,
this time it’s called Whole Hunger:

“You are not a thing, but exist beyond.
Blue water bottle to drink…
Plastic containing air, neither breathable nor thinkable.
On my hands, board and broad.
Everything, holding my everything.

Together.”

Letting the words control, and the mind let go.
Rules that apply, to perish to tonight.
As emotions leaks and logic breaks,
wishfully obeying a new slavery,
of self-forgetting.

No identity.
As the world shows no empathy,
in the end it buries; body, soul, mind, into soils.
Left only awhile of cries, from those who one day,
will join… there, even they aren’t prepared.
Until comma, comma, dots, dots, cross…

Lies burning blue scheme, where…
I resist myself, and desist ego.
Carelessly following,
hopelessly self-not knowing.

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