persone e oggetti, difficili da distinguere. la piccola ragazza buttata negli oggetti. sesso; sesso; sesso, la sua voce... muta.

forzarlo su carta senza miccia può risultare soltanto accademico... e io ** speso anni a provare. la miccia... dentro rimane.

Chair with my ****; words in my eyes; I live for those times.
Within, though; my eyes see no one.

Where is Eva?
She is alone.

You want it- it's an illusion.
You need it- it's boring to tears.
You cry-- take two steps back.

Here we go again.

I sit at my desk- as old as me.
I practice and practice, with disappointing results.
On my left, my magnifying mirror.
I use it to check inside my mouth- whatever of my throat I can see.
I look at it, while I'm sitting at my desk.
I see that I am ******.

I am quite lost.
Self loathing is my hobby, not a good one to socialize.

I see the sky blue- so does everyone else. Yet at the same time, they see me as another.

My mirror shows only the past to me- it shows that crushing truth.
You do as well- as do drawings of you, stories even.

You are so common... and we are so similar- though I am the monster.

I am not like you.
It hurts.

She felt the gentle breeze stroking her hair, by now it was all she needed for her focus to come together.

Excited and anxious, she is now showing to her friends.
"Heh, I've gotten quite used to this now...!" - she lets out in quiet jubilation.

A pocket the size of her hands formed slowly at them, invisible not- only for the dust gathering around it.

She was not "used to it" at all though. A far cry for her acceptance among the other greens- the shivering and giddiness, her nervous inner laugh almost enough to tip it all over.

She felt their gazes, their thoughts. It was very quickly getting too much.

"I have it! I... only need to throw it! I c-can do it!" she thinks to herself- in a desperation growing bigger by the second.

And just like that: "W-waah!" , her silly scream ended it all. The pocket turned against her, the shock wave pushes her to the ground, dust scattering all over while fittingly lifting her skirt for the others to see. A truly humiliating show.

Defeated and ashamed, she gets up from the grassy ground slowly.
A few shivers from cold and embarrassment can be seen, and with her hair covering what shame possible she quietly apologizes:
"I... am sorry... I m-might have lied about my abilities... but I really tried..."

Her chance is now gone and the realization quickly sinking in. She sits down and cries- the storm in her heart.

It was early in the morning.
The sun was bright already and Eva couldn't help but waking up.
How annoying!

It was only 6AM and determined to not get up, Eva grabs one of her two pillows and sandwiches her head in between them. Hoping this would block the sunlight- given her missing curtains.

In a few minutes, Eva manages to relax once again, almost melding with her battle-worn blankets.

One foot poking out trying to balance the volcanic heat, while having 3 layers of said blankets over the rest of her body.

What a dumbo.

Growing up,
my mother next to me.

Growing up,
years in darkness- filth, fear and pain.
A feral loneliness.

Growing up,
a revelation, a smile.
So amazing, some people would notice.

Growing up,
my trust shattered- a back stab from all I had left.

Fear, confusion and tears... anger.

Growing up,
I end up in a new home. Hopeful.
For a time.

Growing up,
Rocks at my back- my ears deaf as I am carried away.
My feet bleeding, holes in my smile.

The nurse yet confused- why was I there?

Growing up,
I ran away.
I find myself in this foster home- a lot of work and a few smiles.

Growing up... I stopped.
Back to that darkness I had to go, this time with my newfound experience.
I thought to rise against the odds- to instead fail.

Growing up were all my problems, my pain, my debts...

I now cry over them.
I wish I could be normal.
I... hate it.
I am tired...

The fear for my health, to see myself
even worse than this.

I cry and tear myself apart in frustration.

You who were supposed to guide me and follow me-
to teach me how to live, to teach me how to survive.

It is in my body now, it is pain and it is ugly.
I am ugly. I am in pain.

It's humiliating.

I try my best- I want to be the best, to win over everyone.
I need to satisfy my superiority complex-

Eva has been through it all, "You're the best!".

And yet with my smile, with my skin, with my breaths... with my gaze
it all falls apart.

I am so glad to be able to write, to be able to see, to sing...
But I wish I couldn't- I wish it to be over, this humiliation.

I am tired of not existing, I can't do it anymore.
And yet I will never be able to end it.

It's so humiliating.
I just want to be like everyone else.

I am looking inside, it hurts.
Mysteries from my youth, showing up now- nails on my skin.
It stabs my own touch- the truth piercing my eyes.

It is my luck that I would survive, to be able to look outside.

Anger; envy; rancor.

I see them all on my skin,
I feel them looking at others'.

My desire to be normal- it's one step closer to my end.
But I cannot make the jump.

I am loved though, yet I cannot touch them.

Eva is loved despite her problems-
despite her skin, her past.

I look back inside.

Tears...
and a smile.

I love you.

I wish to exist.
A ghost, in this world.
But I cannot leave.

I wish to exist- to be on the list,
where everyone is.

Please, I beg you.
I only wish to exist.

It's raining.
It's overbearing.
I don't want to think about all these issues.

Why? Why...?

I'm still alive and young- I could be even luckier than this.
I will be.

I'm the luckiest girl in the world.
But I wouldn't mind being normal.

A smile is embarrassing from me.
It's a summary of their ineptitude.

My hand always hovering in its front.
It's instinctive, automatic- but it stopped.

It's not any less bad, I know not the reason.
I know though, it is your fault.

The ones that replaced my parents would oft remind me of how strong Eva needed to be. Independent.
With that hand in front of my smile, I managed.

Just as that hand is gone though, so is my independency.

Without my shield I feel more vulnerable.
Without my shield... I feel happier.

With you I am happy.

I wonder
a past of mine, clear- yet alien to me.
Phantoms.

I don't want to hurt you.
I dive in your embrace-
I know I am a different girl, but the same person.
It's a new past that I want to forge, with you.

Yet I won't forsake the phantoms.
Yet I won't allow them to stop me.

6 hours have passed.
10 will pass.

It's painful to wait this existence, sitting.
It will go away.

It all fades away.
Slowly.
Endless death.

I go and come back.
Again, coming back.
I go and come back.

I'm 22.
I come back, I come back.
I'm not going anywhere.

My mask fell off.
I took it off.
My mask was hiding them.
They're coming back.
My mask was protecting me.
And now I die.

I don't know.
Where am I? ...Why?

My so hated walls are gone
and now I freeze.

Surrounding me is love
it's scary.

Go away...
I will freeze.

It's my selfless wish to love and to hurt.
I suddenly met you and I felt understood.
We shared our laughs, joy and pain.

Yet I only want to disappear.

What is attraction? How does it work?
What is being happy? What's having fun?

I love you and you love me
so why do I love others as well?

Because love is an energy we create and must express.

Yet not even love can fill this void:
of traumas and ***.

I only want to impulsively disappear.

It is no different, even now.

I hold this pain inside dearly- it's the only thing gifting me life.
My eyes without focus and my brain all the same.
My tongue and mouth are frozen, after my legs and arms.
Years of decay- falling over my head, massing around me.
The poisonous air moving me swiftly to my death.

It is no different from the four wall cage-
though I am not bored now
I am dying still.

Why am I so lucky to experience love?
I don't deserve this, any of it.

I want to live, rid of this pain
but all around me
is only death.

I am honored
I am the luckiest girl in the world.
I love you.
I want to die
but I want to live.

I was looking at the arrows, circling around and never stopping.
They rested upon the wall facing my bed.
There were four walls and a locked door with voices coming from the opposite side.
The sun would circle out as well though I could not notice.
Everything would circle around me.

One; two; three; four; five; six; seven; eight; nine; ten.

My thoughts were only numbers on a sheet of paper.

Nine hundred eighty six; nine hundred eighty seven; nine hundred eighty eight.

A recent past of safeness followed by madness; love followed by obsession; hope followed by despair.
My mind swarming with thoughts turned then into nothingness.
Broken. Bored. Waiting. Watching.

But one day I would get rescued.
My empty mind now only seeking a smile.

Before my eyes I can see the ends of the world though the distance is beyond imagination.
I see too much, too far.
It is a blinding sight, a maddening prophesy.

But in blindness instead I live.
Life is only a moment. A single repeating moment.

Those moments were happiness.
For "a moment" then, I love you.