People judge you when you’re young,
They ask and ask things that can’t be seen,
Maybe the morning dew will do me good, it seems.

They criticize you for changing, for smiling, or for crying,
And when you look up and see the moon shining,
You think, “Yes, she’ll always be watching.”

Moon, what will become of me when I get lost here?

I’ve spent these days dreaming of my despair,
Believing I was remembering when I was just sad and unaware.

I wake up each night at twelve, and think of destiny as a subject in my life,
Look at it as it cuts like a knife.

How can one know it all at eighteen but nothing at twenty-four?
And you try to stop, but your home is your room, nothing more.

How long must I heal? How long must I cry?
It’s so tiring just to think, to question, and to sigh.

And in the mirror, my reflection darkens each morning,
Be careful what you see reflected, or at least that’s what the gypsy warned me.

Moon, what will become of me when I get lost here?

I had so much to dream tonight,
I’m afraid to think of how I’ll end, so I wake in the middle of the night,
Trying to surrender, only to fail again.

How can one know it all at eighteen but nothing at twenty-four?
I’m dying to see it, but in my room, I just read some more.

And among all the dreams I had tonight,
I wonder if they’d miss me when I slip away from sight,
I wake up, and I reflect on what seemed like a dream in flight.

How could I believe I knew it all at eighteen, but nothing at twenty-four?
And if you want to see me, if you truly want to see,
I’ll be dreaming with tears in my room, endlessly.

It was the beginning I had always wished for
I carried all those lights toward you
And softly, I shouted, “I love this.”

Colors poured from you in endless streams
I was amazed by everything I saw
And holding your hand, all I felt was warmth

I suffered so much while you watched me fall
I was breaking, all because I didn’t know

For everything I saw in you, Bruno
You were meant for me—in another world with an end

I kept running, only to fall again
Friends telling me how good it was
Yet I was the one who got to have you

When you were cold, I tried to be the sun
When you erased, I filled the space with imagination
Only to be abandoned where I first met you

For everything I saw in you, Bruno
You were meant for me—in another world with an end
Two hands that could never heal
I hope now you find yourself

And don’t think I abandoned you,
But I was dying without knowing,
A grave I was meant to belong to
All of them screaming at me,
And I was terrified of being the one to fail,
The chosen one to fall,
The right one to lose

Months of suffering, drowning in doubt,
No clues to tell me if I was ever truly there

How long did I suffer, being the wrong reflection?
Trying to erase mistakes when I was already making them

I was sacrificed for your weak conviction,
For a bit of doubt, for your confusion,
Now I wait in blood for what you made me lose
And I understand now how I could have been more,
How I won you over,
How I became so much more than loss

So, Bruno, have a lovely night
Surrounded by stars and that moon you love

Someone who falls in love knows they’ll run,
Only to realize they’ll never touch the ground,
And once beneath the great moon, they fear,
For the idea of being intangible is clear.

Can you see me now beside you?
Can you feel me when I asked for you?

Chained to the beyond, my eyes yearn from here,
Being immortal, falling for someone made of crystal so clear.
If at the end of all suffering you wish to pass this portal,
On the other side, you’ll see the great sun shine, my mortal love eternal.

Your nights are short and cold,
Mine from this plane are endless, in melodies bold,
From the abyss so calm, I watch, and sometimes,
Just sometimes, I manifest in rhymes.

Can you hear my sweet paraphony?
Can you accept this heresy?

Seeing your face from the called paradise,
An act as captivating as the grandest spell’s device.
In the great tree I’ll show you soon,
We are beings so different, you laugh, and I remain without tune.

Can intangibility fall for what dust is, and its perceptibility?
In this endless cycle, it’s only me and you, with my beautiful ghostly love.

And just at midnight, before sleep arrives,
You had a vision with me alive,
That night, it was I using my energy to move,
You were my mission, my love, my proof.

For I, who no longer ages,
Am just water without movement, in these stages,
But I’m captivated to the extreme by you seeing,
All that you love and all that you’re being.

From the plane, with hands of air,
I’ll embrace you, with love so rare.

Why does everything move forward? That’s what I want to know.
Do you stop because of fear, or are they doubts as you grow?
Why does everything continue? Without light, you can’t see.
Sometimes I feel that the morning has ceased to be.

I must walk carefully through this vast, abandoned hall,
and I repeat my steps towards the end because I’ve given no more to them.

Why does everything keep moving? Is it that I move with everything too?
Maybe with little breath, it’s what I must do.
Why is everything spinning? Perhaps it’s a strange dance,
where no one hears you, and only you have a chance.

I turn back just to witness how you take my hands from behind,
and in my ear, you whisper that once again, you’ll leave me behind.

And it’s on these nights that I can’t stop asking,
beneath this moon, impossible to admire,
I return home, and my eyes start to close,
Could it be that everything moves forward, or am I afraid to turn?