While my own skin betrays me,
and words of hate have been said from their mouth,
a shut up mouth, an ignoring mouth, a sealed mouth,
I feel that I exist at last.
They can’t destroy my being with their denial,
they can’t change who I would like to love.
I will wave my flag,
I will stop blaming myself for my mistakes,
and one day, maybe really soon, this boy will be fine.
My mind is filled with thoughts,
then in the moment of writing,
a nothingness catches my heart paralyzing my hands.
I watch the blank page,
waiting for words to flow, to throw out, to describe my world,
what my eyes see around me.
And it feels like I’m fighting a lost battle,
it feels like my dreams dry in the sun,
drop by drop they all flow back into my heart,
and I would like to scream out,
Stop! Come out!
Let me get relief from my demons,
let me feel that I’m good at something!
Let me be able to harshly describe my deepest feelings,
with no pity, with no remorse.
Getting hope from the blue sky,
getting shattered by my family’s refusal.
I want to see hope between the burning flames,
I want to walk under a sky that is my sky, my world, my life, built with my own hands!
I am going insane, hallelujah!
Am I lost out at sea?
I’m floating through life’s pattern,
my hand is ready to be held,
to return the warmth to sender.
I’m ready to get read,
these words will reach nobody’s heart,
but it’s not a good reason to give up.
Deep down, beyond all darkness,
at the end of every little path,
a light shines, a spark of hope that I have to follow still remains,
beyond all sufferings and absurdities,
that little flickering light calls me.
And while I walk this path alone,
I see people stuck in their own prisons,
incapable to smile, to feel something,
to open their hearts.
That’s when I smile,
and I become aware that this is the right direction.
As I watch your silhouette fading away through the airport’s door,
I stumble down on my knees,
I play music, I cry like a baby because you’re not here with me anymore,
and probably you never will be.
An Atlantic distance between the two of us,
I know, it would make it a challenge.
As spring explodes in the shadow of the castle,
I sit alone in the sun you’ve seen,
as a dog barks and old souls hope for a better future.
Though spring is here for me it’s still September,
flowers bloom only on Arthur’s Seat.
People and stories go by,
and I can only think of you, of your sweet smile,
of your accent while speaking,
of the way you move when you show me things,
of your irresistible shyness.
Then a crossroad,
the drunk night of feelings,
and you already plan your next trip.
I see the green meadows in the sunshade,
I see us, holding hands, walking peacefully
creating the seed of infinite.
A dream, an illusion,
while life leads us astray,
and I still can recall your voice,
that fragile moment before it disappears in the flow.
And then I plan, I try to figure out what could I do,
to be that special man, to be the privileged,
who could kiss you under the castle’s hill.
In the foggy morning I’m here, floating on my existence as I live another useless day.
I look in the mirror and I see a reflection only known to me.
I hear stories of allowed relationships, and for a moment I feel rage.
I feel a fire inside, listening to normal people’s problems.
And then she comes again and we will be silent for long hours, as the Pretenders air on the radio.
“When you’re standing at the crossroads and don’t know which path to choose”
and this music sends a shadow to the sky,
as I get on the train to dream the stars.
I observe the skies falling on shaking wishes, on fragile cracking streams of thoughts.
One week ago the goal was still there, there were still hope.
They want me to say that I love girls,
as a trumpet tweets from digital headphones.
Will something ever change? Will I ever take off?
Then I see the stories, the beautiful stories that I dream to tell,
I’d like to get remembered for a story, for my story,
to have had the strength to rise up. to reach up to the firmament.
Maybe I’m not made for this, I have to get stuck! NO! I don’t want this.
There must be something special ahead of me, there must be something better.
I can’t believe that all I can do is to be here seated writing things that nobody wants to read.
I will take a bow in front of my wishes. Don’t fade away.
in the bleak midwinter,
snow melting, funny jokes,
Connecting people, missing transmission, blackout.
Unable to live, control.
Unchain, my mind is unleashed.
Negotiate for me,
and as the bombs approach we will share our feelings on the web.
Make the money move, ruin them,
make them suffer for the sake of the Nation.
Embrace me, far away from all this mess,
far away from the people who dare to offend you,
who are shocked at the sight of a same-sex kiss.
Kiss without any limit, let them feel ashamed.
And this song is hurting as a stylet,
a stain burning on my skin.
Drops of pouring rain hitting my forehead,
my sudden comeback,
while fast cars drive by on the fast lane.
A far away friend,
a missed answer,
numbers I don’t remember.
A regret digging in my soul.
Can you hear my call?
This hurt I’m going through,
it’s a glimpse of moonshine through the wet ground.
Snowflakes flying in the twilight,
they’re tapping against my skin,
while a wistful silence reigns
on the white-covered countryside.
The shadows of the night gather in the suburbs,
and I take your side,
I take up the gauntlet,
to find a flickering light through the grimmest darkness.
I won’t bide my time, waiting for the sun to come,
I will shovel in the snow,
till I see the sun rays cutting through,
warming up my weak, pale and thirsty skin.
I am sitting in this bar alone,
as the sun outside waver to rise.
The cappuccino gets cold,
and an old song plays on the radio.
Fog, rain, and the door opening.
A low-vibe day,
I’m snuggling undercover with a thought,
And the thoughts in my head wreck havoc,
while the world spins slowly around,
People Help the People now,
exploding ground in paradise.
And that boy crying for help,
he has learned to swallow the venom,
to keep anger down,
and to fake a scenery of plastic success.
That boy has learned to smile,
to see beauty in a simple drop of rain.
to feel how cold can be a refusal,
to feel how wrong and perfect can be to love.
And the thoughts in my head wreck havoc,
a speech I can’t get,
you, sat on the sofa, snorting snow,
my love sinking in the ocean,
my knife stabbing your back,
the blood from your heart,
a flowing creek of crooked thistles,
and then liberty.
Two other bodies enter the room,
they speak my mother tongue,
I don’t want to hear my mother tongue anymore,
as the bombs explode on the boot,
and children are killed for the sake of the Unknown
the words in my head wreck havoc.
Stuck on the other side of the horizon,
strolling down the lights of Spadina,
till the water’s edge greets me with its phosphorescence,
and the air of yesterday smells like pinewood.
A scent of something nice, lost in the fog.
amid the highest glass,
I find myself thinking what would’ve been like,
to be a son of the other side,
a child of the land of the never-ending fields.
Will I ever change?
All the time that sun shines and the warmth of its rays crosses my windows,
I feel like I’m still there,
standing on the platforms of Union Station,
dreaming of a brilliant future,
a simple smile from a cute face,
the revolution I am looking for.
Again, again, I climb on a tree to see the harbour,
save me from a prison of bombing,
take me on a plane,
14.000 miles from home,
the first hope in my heart,
like a plane on Lake Ontario.
A life is gone,
a fighter, a light.
Tears get back into my eyes,
a sudden feeling of impatience,
while a subdued world flows by.
People kill the people,
notes on the wall,
a straight existence.
I am proud of who I am.
I will love to love you,
As the trees whisper in my ears
I’m lost in the forest.
I am sure that one day I will find the light,
while he slowly murmurs that he loves me,
I know that you lied.
An organ plays in the background,
I don’t need you.
You expect something I can’t give.
She drinks, she drinks, she drinks,
Clocks are ticking,
our world ruled by time,
your smile high above me.
In the sudden loneliness of the 8th,
your illusions, the dreams that you think they’re broken,
the shame you feel.
I don’t care about it,
as the forest gets brighter you’re just a shadow in the blinding shade,
and you cried your desperation,
I’ve chosen the other path.
I get drunk,
I forget your face,
in the fog, in the light.
A hug from a distance,
a warmness that lasts a minute,
the cold of winter surrounding our naked bodies.
You turn on the other side,
and I follow the strange presence of a body,
a warm human body next to mine.
Your kisses are full of heaven,
but inside I burn of emptiness,
while your smile was everything I wanted to see,
on that cold, dark night.
Just for one little time, just on that moment.
And I promise you that I won’t try it anymore,
I won’t dream of me and you anymore,
I will just turn away from your story.
My destiny is far away,
the long-needed separation is behind the corner,
I’m starving of being good at something,
the accent I can’t understand,
the automatic response of my brain.
A future, from where I will be able to watch that single night,
smile at it, write to you,
and find that same old fragile tension.
The last hopes that hold me here,
thin ropes about to stretch and break,
letting me free to fly in the warmer air of the path,
all dreams funnel on iron wings,
in the sun, in the brilliance I can see under palm trees,
other people, other fears,
and in dreams, I’m sure I will still hold your warm hands,
my last rope,
my last invisible grip.