Hiss

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)