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.
I don’t know what you see,
a frightened child,
a smiling sunflower ready to be caught?
I see the arms I used to love,
and I’m just reading out your words,
wishing to have another chance to be kissed again.
And I just wish a change of season,
looking through maroon falling leaves,
leaving traces on the ground,
leaving paths you can follow.
You told me to be strong,
but all I got is a voice.
Spectators of the turning of the tables,
standing still in the bruising poignant neon bedrooms,
violence all around us,
a gate getting closed by my grandmother,
her voice, her wartime stories,
fear, fascists bursting into her house.
Then I see a whore, in the daylight,
a sad story on her shoulder,
haggling with a young man about her price.
He drives away.
I walk by to avoid the sadness that I feel in my heart.
A dog is barking in the distance.
Then my secret love,
a passion dried out,
the world enclosed in my dark secret place,
how we laughed on that summer day,
how we kissed each other in the sunlight,
the sensation of living something somehow unique.
Then the hustling of the city,
the tower standing out against the blue of the sky,
a silver sphere where I would have liked to go,
curved houses erected on the canal,
a cold, freezing wind is howling,
while the sun sets and I walk away.
The heart troubles in the night,
I remember how much I longed for a sign,
and now I can just wonder who I am,
who we are,
caught in the whistle.
But in the darkness I recognize that something’s missing.
While I wait for a change,
as illusions fade away as the tether between us,
and I grow stronger and well-aware that you weren’t the one for me,
I listen to my father grumbling, crying out his own unhappiness.
His misfortune, the disgrace to have had a gay son,
the tragedy that he lives everyday.
I know that the wounds on my skin are healing,
as I write this lines the murmuring is just a shadow
and all I need is a warm embrace.
All I need are two arms protecting me from the world,
while I dance in my own tears,
and my feet freeze.
A distant world,
a blue sphere dancing in the blackness,
an immortal, unbreakable silence,
the prince and the patrol by my side,
looking for something to revive the magic,
in the valley of forbidden sounds.
The city pulses in its hectic life,
a million stories collide for a moment,
I see people talking,
and I’d like to know everything about them,
I see lips producing words,
and I’d like to kiss them all.
Then I see the lips that I liked to kiss,
then I remember our bodies touching,
how you confessed me your secrets,
then your smiles.
White blinding light,
the warmth I was looking for.