1 giu 2014


The shadows of your words
accompany me in my way back home;
the melancholy of a moment
carries inside everything I would have done,
we keep on acting, and switching, and we are so alone.

In the mist we catch ourselves
and we should get closer to get our lips so dried,
stuck - hissing for help,
the self destruction hidden in a shell
brought by the wave of our repressed needs.

Fill your holes with my fingers
exploring your old shots untreated.
We've lost the sense of living
and I'm gonna kill you to make you live again,
when pain is a bliss for who's anaesthetized.

When feeling too much
is just like feeling nothing,
I would pay the highest price
to be able to feel again. 

(December 2013)

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