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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.

Entanglement

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,
play.
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.

Bloom

A simple request from you,
a smell reaching my nose,
I’m broken.
I trust the words I’ve been spoken,
can you give me a glimpse of hope?
Traveling on the rainy road,
in the flashing light of the cars,
staring at the blue of the sky,
that sad gray nuance I get used to.

Autumn,
intense colors hit my sight,
friends and frozen moments.
I can’t believe you’re not by my side anymore,
and I’m broken again.
A guitar chord,
she sings whispering,
a sweet smile on his face,
the hope of being loved by him.
They dance in the night.

They dance in the night.
Such an unusual sight,
a drum phases in,
then silence and her prayer.
A tragedy far beyond you and me.
The water from the sky melts together with our tears,
all I can feel,
is that I’m broken.
Give me a handshake,
can I get used to to my life?
Lose the will to fight?

The one word we use the most is “goodbye”,
trying to be kind,
he smokes too much,
his lungs are black,
I ear his coughs, the phlegm he spits,
a venom in his body.
The words he said to me.
And I was broken.
“I’m ashamed of you”
“What I’ve done?”
“I can’t look at you”

Flowers bloom from the snow,
I can see them push to breathe,
I am yours,
if you don’t question my faith.
I love like a human being,
I want to fell happy like a child,
understand that my life has a meaning.
I’ve bloomed.
I’m not broken anymore.

The Chant

Steal his mind while she sings,

she is my blackbird,

a call from the deepest corner of this existence.

I listen to the resonance,

a drop falls into the sea,

stardust in my eyes.

Eternity built through steel and glass,

the fragile sense of our lives,

the sun that hits.

 

Prison’s guard holding me down,

I don’t want to be controlled by the ticking of the clock,

blue skies are my saviors.

The flight of fantasy, I fly into imagination,

till the gate closes,

and still she sings.

 

In the absolute meaning of what it has been between us,

your voice is quite blurred, far away.

The snow that you were.

The romance.

The snow.

The Blank Page

A novel’s first words,

a long-lasting research.

Vibrations in the thick, humid air.
A voice rises up, white and floating, in the artificial light,
while the blue bar takes with itself these irreplaceable moments.
A guitar chord, G major,
a gospel choir, looking for a spirituality that doesn’t exists,
while observing the darkness in the abyss, where I will fall, never ending.
Friends that come and go, like shadows blinded by summer,
empty words with no meaning,
dead souls’ stunned faces.
Sand under my shoes, the artist’s delirium.
An agitation without ending,
the trembling feeling watching the blank page.

Long-distance relationships,
beauty comes from across the screen,
without touching, day after day.
A spar, a prison with a window in the corner.
You and me.
The perfect circle, torn apart by life, by snow,
the street that goes on pitiless till the end of times,
society that destroys itself,
humans, that repeat their mistakes once again, the terror, blood.
Stab him! Stab him and bathe your hands in his blood!
Do it!
He loves you more than ever, he’ll die for you, he wants to do it.
Drown him. Tie him up and drown him alive, choke your feeling.
The perfect day, dreams enclosed in a moment,
seconds that won’t never return,
time’s inevitability, existence’s shortness.
I’m already in the coffin waiting for the judgement,
the shadow of the End looms over.
A breath.

Prickly people, do you get enraged for a missed celebration?
In the meantime all the rest burns out! And you attack, you like to be mean, you like to be bitter.
To suffer like this for the artifice of human life, for the artifice of immortality.
Run, run, explode, connect yourself, quick! Fast!
FAST!
Elegy of slowness.
Elegy of solitude.
Elegy of the blue of sky, of starlight, pieces of infinite that drill the dark veil,
the fire cracking in the dead of the night.
Elegy of madness. Elegy of freakiness! Be freak! What’s the meaning to normality?
I will always be a shadow, a resenting soul.
I will always look for a security that doesn’t belong to me, I will lose myself in the dreams of a life.
Bomb me with your words!
Save me with a cuddle.
I observe the kindness of the injustice,
the malice laughter on the faces of people don’t understand its valor,
human nature turning against itself,
the artificial system, the ice age.
A gigantic wave in the nordic sea.
The love that remains, that make mountains crumble down,
without love, without life, cities that worship flesh,
cathedrals made of rotten human corpses, ants that exult in their stink
Dream, a majestic dream,
the path that leads to light, through the trees.
The delicate touch of your hand,
you, your face surrounded by the Sun,
me, delighted by the beauty of your Being,
I finally know that my sentiment is legitimated.
Here, at the end of all things, I know that I can love like everyone else,
even if you cried on my shoulder, even if my loving makes sad,
even if the peak becomes steep,
holding the hand of the Star I know that there’s no gender for this feeling.
Lay with me on the humid ground, let’s get dirty before the ending of the day,
kiss me while you cry tears of joy,
while we own something that the Others won’t never understand.
“I exist”. I’ve fought for this.
Canada, Germany, Holland, Iceland, Sweden, a midsummer night’s dream,
the people I love.
A flight over hopes that crush against life’s glass wall.
The cry of who doesn’t have anything,
the empty bowl of the boy that begs me for a coin, me, turning and walking by,
system’s artificial perfection, swallowing us in its fiction,
your will to trap happiness, nature’s purity.
I float high, towards the enormous blue sky, towards the cosmos, the absence of gravity,
don’t you want to slow down for a while? Understanding our reality, what’s the meaning in shooting against me, jail me, cry on me, throw out your repulsion, cry, take back, rape, kill, hit with stones, choke, squeeze?
Above me, Past Myth’s weight remains, words that won’t ever get old,
dreamers, wonderful crazy people!
Being isolated isn’t easy, no one understands the obsession about that freedom that everyone is certain to have.
They sell their souls, dead hearts given up to immortality, shot through a tunnel that seems without an exit.
I wait patiently for the day when I’ll be able to smile,
when I’ll be able to stop folding paper, to count to five, to listen to your threats, to face the Demon that dwells in my head.
Higher, between the evening lights, glacier’s glare, twilight’s red shade. Higher, in the deadly silence of the clouds, I become poorer and smaller, hiding in nimbus’ basalt,
observing Gaya’s tendons stretch amid sky’s carousel,
hugging your profile, wishing to touch you once again,
melting in a freedom that the others, locked on the ground, can’t even imagine.

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