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Dreamer’s Confession

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.

Annunci

Toronto

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.

Then,
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.

Fear of Love

Your face smiling from a diagram of lives,
I look at you,
I don’t feel nothing,
useless lust lost in the fog of this week,
Christmas lights flickering in the new twilight.
Time slows down now,
memories that give me nausea,
a face like yours.

Yours.
Y
o
URS. US. U. S. My shield.

Another voice.
Silence.
Beat.
Refusal.
Stay away.
No pleasure.
And I’m afraid of love,
My walls are high around me,
they will defend my bleeding heart.

A touch that hurts,
tears dried as we tore apart,
words written in a chemical madness,
your will to touch me.
Closure. Stay away from me.
Don’t make this shiny armor explode. *
I *
——————————————————— * * * *
Explosion.
And if you want to skim over my soul,
please do that gently,
then lay me down and disappear,
give me the best memory,
I won’t never cry for you,
but I will fly away.
No love lost,
It still feels hard.

And I remember once upon a time,
wasting lovers every night,
bored at heart,
needing tenderness on the surface,
I would have waited for you;
and if you think of me once in a while,
I will keep our dearest memories in my heart.

The Cliff #2

We’re just wondering to care for each other,
6 hours ago we were just shadows in the multitude.
While my head turns fast,
drunk in a sudden feeling I wasn’t expecting.
Is that the danger I was waiting for?
Just tell me I’ll be able to control it,
to be as I’d like to be.
As words go by,
and the view becomes clearer,
I just want to be embraced by a dream.

I’m addicted to my loneliness,
to my safe refuge.
Will I allow you to touch me?
I know you’re a risk,
I know that you could make me lose my balance.
A beat in the dark,
the words of the Queen.
A pale statue-like face staring in the void.
Her skin looks like porcelain,
as silence becomes an unbearable relief.

I don’t know you.
I’m stuck in fears.
I’m trembling.

My heart doesn’t know love anymore,
slow down, slow down.
Breathe. A slow motion kiss.

Day 3

A red ‘E’ hanging on the wall, 

the heat suffocates me. 

My eyes are cascading,

words that are a whirlwind, a mess, an undistinguished murmur. 

How can they speak about that all the time? How can they just talk like this? 

I feel on the outside, I don’t want to be like them.

They don’t want to meet me, 

that smile could be my safety, but I will never be brave enough to open my mouth. 

A red beard. A vanishing face, bloddy lips. 

I don’t want to get out of this safe refuge.

Life’s biting. 

I want to touch their skin, I want to be their head, I want the peace and joy and quietness in their mind. 

The strength of their means, no uncertainties.

Neons, my eyelids are heavy. 

Smile for me, without knowing that I’m watching you, 

your big arms shine as a safe harbor. 

I’m ashamed, wrong, the fag you hate. 

The judgement of the world is smashing my sensations. 

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