I ate a carrot for breakfast.
I know... what a declaration.
But a year ago, the crunch wouldn’t have come from chewing the carrot,
Rather from those eyes looking,
Those minds judging.
My biggest fear—
Not being good enough.

I ate a carrot for breakfast.
A truly liberating experience.
Who cares?
I like it.
I want it.
You do your thing.

Tell that to a French person,
And they’d reconsider being in your vicinity.

But now things are different.
This morning,
With my morning carrot,
I no longer fear being weird,
Or different—
For eating a carrot,
Or for doing anything, really.

I won’t judge you for eating garlic for breakfast—
Not that I’ve done that, not at all—
But, you know,
In theory,
Hypothetically,
If you did, I’d be curious.

But you can sit there with your garlic,
While I’m munching on my carrot.
In peace.
No conflict.
And that’s about as much as I want from you.

My thoughts—waves in sea,
Footprints left upon the sand
are gone forever.

The birds are chirping,
Waking you up
From the somber dream
You were lost in.

For it's a new morning,
A new beginning awaits.
The stars in the sky fade, and
You have a choice to make.

With every tear you shed,
You get closer to the truth.
The veil is removed,
And you can see clearly again.

You know when it’s time to go,
You will know when it’s time to go.
When the birds sing that song,
And the cicadas buzz along.

You will know when it’s time to go,
As your heart will buzz too.
The wind will take you to places
You’ve never been before.

You’ll face it all
Before you know.
And when you know,
The whole world will invite you—

To leave what's known
For something better,
Something you've not yet made
Too small for you.

To suffer in love  
is my evening tea,
one you hesitate  
to brew for me.

Sometimes, as the sun sets,
And the sharp grass on your bare feet
Leaves its marks as you pass through,
You reach the goal net.

In that rigid inability to move past it,
Still seeing through,
Where the sun lies,
"The obstacle is the way."

You might think the goal net is the goal,
But behind it, something deeper lies—
Something brighter,
Something ever-present.

The beauty of the sunset—
You don't have to go anywhere to see it.
You don't need scissors to cut the net;
You don’t have to score, just be here.

Turn around; see it not as a barrier,
But as a frame, highlighting the beauty.
The net is no longer in the way—
It is the way.

that comes along at 3 a.m.
to wake me from the dreams
I’ve been living in.

An unwanted visitor
that doesn’t leave,
as I try to get rid of it,
push it away
with desperate hands
waving in the dark tranquility
of early morning.

A visitor here to teach me
all the ways we resist the world,
all the ways we wish we were elsewhere,
trying to control what’s not ours to control.

Desperately waving our hands around
as if that would do it.

As if,
as if what we want matters to the world.

One mosquito can ruin everything;
you can turn on all the flashlights,
stay up until 5,
but you won’t see it unless you do,
standing there on the edge of the wardrobe.

With a certain resolve:
“smack.”
Gone,
away with your worries,
and now you can return deep
into your dreams.

If only we could smash away the problems,
all that buzzes around in our heads,
all questions unanswered,
all that torments us deep into the night.

“Smack.”
Gone.

If I could gather all the stars,
And place them in a bowl,
If I could capture a sunset
And frame it for your wall.
If I could scrape off sunlight's glow,
That kisses the green grass,
Blend the mixture gently,
And serve it in a glass.

I would, I would,
A thousand times or more,
To bring you closer to the beauty
Of all you're longing for.

Falling to the ground,
My bike beside me,
The only light, the moon above.

Falling once more,
As if it were the first,
Lost amidst Italy's hills,
Searching for myself.

Falling again,
Hands over my eyes to halt
The flood,
My body, a mushroom's form.

Retreated, like a turtle withdrawn,
But I had no shell.

If only I had a home
To find solace,
Anywhere I went.
But that night, all I owned
Were hands as doors,
Legs as pillars,
Belly as floor,
And my voice,
A leaking pipe.

A car passed by, but I was scared,
Afraid to hope they'd care,
Afraid they'd prove me wrong.

So, I shrunk into silence,
Ensuring my fears took hold.

I wandered the dark path,
Where trees obscured the moon,
Now but a memory.

Falling, a necessary but insufficient
Step before standing,
Before shouting,
Before soaring.

Flying akin to fireflies small,
Whose kisses saved me that night.
A darkness so bright, my hand invisible.
A firefly is all you'll ever need.

In that empty, claimed black expanse,
You grasp for it,
But there's no 'You' anymore.

I thought my shadow would linger,
Yet, I turned pitch black,
Sprinkled with dots of hope.

In the depth of the night,
when the crickets and cicadas
are holding my pain,
and they chirp as each tear wets the pillow,
I would like for you to hold it too.

To be fully seen is to be
a closed book with a lock,
for he who has the key.
He who cannot wait for the night
to come and let his pain be held
and also hold hers.

He prepares himself and reads
a page or two a day,
immersing himself more and more
in the story of her.

To be fully seen is to know well—
well,
he could grab a pen and scribble all over,
add a page or two,
write instead of you.
Yet give him the pain, and the pen and the markers,
excited to see what he'd do.

Because you have his book, too,
and all you want to do is highlight,
draw a rose or two,
plant a kiss or two,
where the scars are visible,
where the pages are torn.

When it feels like too much—
two people and two books—
to be fully seen
is what I am here for:
to open the book of my heart
and my life
with hands trembling,
with eyes caught,
with heart open.

Did you throw away the key?
Forget it...
I want to read your book, too.
For every page that ends with a question,
I'll make sure to add my answer to my book.

To be fully seen,
as a soul, naked,
floating in space,
with you,
you can let go,
with all my secrets,
with all my questions,
with my book.

You can tear it to pieces if
you so decide.
With my heart trembling,
and a bag of markers,
I'll return your book and the key
and be glad I was fully seen.
At least, I tried to be.

Sometimes, no matter how much you explain,
the person cannot read your book well,
nor remember the details
carefully underlined by you.

Maybe, just maybe, the closure is to see
it's not the quality of the book;
maybe the genre's just not his cup of tea.

I look at you
A ghost without boundaries
My hands reaching out
To grasp your heart
Nothing there to stop me

I look at you
Ephemeral
And ethereal
I wonder when you’ll see
The way I view you
An abstract concept
Far away
Never to be found
Never to be touched
Yet an object of limerence
An object of love
That is not to be realized

Saudade
Object of obsession
You are nothing more than that
You are much more than that

A ghost without boundaries
Dead yet alive in my mind
Fitting in the puzzle pieces
As I fit the parts of my heart
Last time it fell for you

In the fridge
There sits the bottle of Joy
Every Thursday She becomes my friend
Every Friday She and I fight

In the drawer
There sits the bottle of Pain
I try to keep it away
But every Saturday
I find it open

In the bin
There sits the bottle of Regret
With its deafening yells
Every Sunday morning

Three Drinks and I are friends
And then we fight
And then we make up again.

The windows are closed,
The lights are off,
My mind and I are all I´ve got.

My friends are there,
nowhere to be found,
and I am here
all alone.

I wish I could,
reach out and feel
the love for you
I always craved.

But all I have,
and all I know,
is the way
the bottles
stir up my soul.

I missed you once,
I missed you twice,
Then I drank,
Forgot at once.

I knew there was more,
and I opened the door,
you entered with pride,
but I was alive.

Accarezza le mie guance,
come fai sbocciare i fiori.
Essi si aprono per te e
svelano i loro segreti.
Ti fanno tremare.

Accarezza le mie guance
come la brezza
accarezza ogni albero
e le foglie su di esso.

Invece, il vento della tua anima
fa cadere gli alberi,
distrugge i giardini
e i fiori dentro di me.

Quando sono sola
e non riesco a pensare,
m'immergo nell'idea di te.
Nuoto finché
non riesco più a respirare.
Non riesco ad amare,
non riesco ad aprire i tuoi occhi.
Nuoto finché
non trovo il coraggio
di dirti che vuoi volare
ma io voglio soltanto nuotare.

A car in the distance

the fridge making some noises all night

me, myself and I


someone showering and I could hear the water

I am closing my eyes

all the sounds there are

yet nothing can stop me

nothing can save me from feeling


It is as if someone’s squeezing my heart

(a buzzing sound the source of which I do not know)

My heart is squeezed yet my mind keeps on going

convincing my whole being that nothing’s wrong


How can I function when I know the sun precedes

the darkness of the night

My laughter and smiles

are there until they’re not


How do I go on knowing no one

will come and save me

and to have the courage to trust myself

with the most important task in life:

to find meaning and peace

now, and no later

here, and not there

within me, and not with others


while my heart is beating

and the fridge is running

and the water’s flowing

I am here, and I am safe

Safe, within myself

And no one else

When the last drop goes through the sink

and you are left with nothing but your own

way of producing liquid

Liquid that’s an expression of all the pain

all the trauma

you have been suppressing

The trauma that resurfaces every time

a drop forms at the bottom of the faucet

and falls down

down deeper and deeper

through the pipes

and the other parts

all of the parts of the sink

I don’t know

and never will


when the drop falls through

and you know all is left is you

when you look down, deep down

you wish you could wash your face with the *****

muddy water in the sink

that you deserve


How dare you shed a tear

that would drop in the sink

and stain all the rest

innocent drops that became one

One whole

something you never could do


How dare you be superior

superior to a drop that formed

at the bottom of the faucet.

When you open your heart to someone new
You give them your all
Then it subdues
When you hope it will change
And the night will be bright
When you fear they’ll run away
And they stay by your side
When you know that they love you
But you can’t love them back
That is all I know of life
And I would want to retract

The only certain thing in life
Is that the sun will rise and shine
The bees would fly around and grasp
Whatever they could find at last
The moon will shine as well tonight
And all the stars as diamonds bright
I shall tell you one thing only:
The only certain thing in life
Is that you will live
And you shall die.

The night I spoke a charm and you collapsed,
The seas were burning bright to seize the storm.
My love was thrown into the ground of lust;
It was exhumed as soon as it was born.

The boomerang came back and hit my face;
Went all around, and saw the street of darkness.
It has become a sort of race and chase,
In which the only one to judge is Madness.

I threw it back again in hopes of change;
The wind blew back and forth but never Right.
As blue skies grew into a twisted cage,
The vicious cycle left its mark tonight.

And months pass by, so I am here to heal,
By writing on this sheet as true as steel.

Moonlight sneaks through the crevice of her sorrow

"It's all a lie
Love cannot die
He'll come back tomorrow"

𝘖𝘶𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘶𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘱𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘴,
𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘩 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘰𝘴𝘦?
𝘞𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘰𝘣𝘫𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘴,
𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘣𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘰𝘳 𝘥𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘶𝘴𝘦?
𝘔𝘢𝘺𝘣𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘭 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦
𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘳𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘪𝘹 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘴𝘵
𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥
𝘰𝘧 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘱𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘥?
𝘖𝘳 𝘮𝘢𝘺𝘣𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘷𝘢𝘯𝘪𝘴𝘩
𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝘣𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘰𝘧 𝘢𝘯 𝘦𝘺𝘦,
𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘸𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘳,
𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘭 𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥

𝘐𝘧 𝘐 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘢 𝘴𝘶𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘱𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳,
𝘋𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘐 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘥𝘰?
𝘐 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘧𝘭𝘺 𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘵
𝘍𝘭𝘺 𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶

When I look at the moon I don't see it as light in the darkness
I observe a land unexplored

When I see the stars I don't gasp at their beauty
I frown upon the fact that I can't reach them

When I think of you I don't smile lovingly
I flinch in pain of what could be but never will

I choose to love you in silence…
For in silence I find no rejection,
I choose to love you in loneliness…
For in loneliness no one owns you but me,
I choose to adore you from a distance…
For distance will shield me from pain,
I choose to kiss you in the wind…
For the wind is gentler than my lips,
I choose to hold you in my dreams…
For in my dreams, you have no end.

Amidst all the volatility
my love for you is the only constant.

To learn how to miss you without wanting you

To learn how to love you without needing you

To learn how to hug you within my mind's confines

would take all the time in the world
     all the effort I could put
           all the tears my eyes could produce

To learn how to love in silence
and pretend that's not the case.

Seeing you for the first time -
you fill me with warmth and affection,
those I pushed away when all was surreal

Meeting you for the first time -
you have a magic wand
and scare away the dragon that instilled my fears

Hugging you for the first time -
you show me the pond
that could easily overflow with all my tears


Us becoming one undermines all our doubts


Your kiss is a drop of water
in my dehydrated mouth

Your hug is the warmth I need
in the icy months of despair

You were supposed to be here now
Our hands intertwined

If only
If only you had dared to love me

To my wife

Sometimes I will come to you in your dreams
as unexpected and uninvited guest.
Do not leave me outside in the street -
do not block up the doors.

I'll enter quietly, sit down softly,
and gaze upon you in the dark.
When my eyes have gazed their fill -
I'll kiss you and depart.

I was sinking in the cloud
searching for you
The birds were chirping
Wait, could it subdue?

I glimpsed you once or twice
in all your glory
I was sure it was love -
like a happy ending story

You poured on warmth on me
Wrapped me up with affection
Us lying, you made the confession

We danced all night
and told our stories

I woke up falling
Hit the ground
It hurt a lot, but I stood up

I saw you there,
at the end of the street
it seemed you had fallen
even harder than me

I approached you slowly,
fixed you with a gaze
I tried to touch you,
but you ran away

The morning was blue.
Maybe it was the room.
A will to resume overcome by what looms.
A feeling.
It's no use, the sun knows we're fading.
Gasping.
And trading pain for distraction.
A bail out.

But beneath the cancerous commerce lives the unfelt,
the un-dealt with speculation: that my vessel is a flawed innovation;
that frightened children may have found a moment's passion
and left us with moods as fickle as fashion.
These tangled wires clash and blur the line
between my mind and fine,
So unless we redefine unrefined, life will continue in kind
as long as my time in this queue to resign.

Then, as my life hangs it’s warped canvas
on a world of new advancements
awakened in me: the chance it’s… just us.

A planet that's born afraid. Sold lemonade,
and not shown how it's made.
Crawling wave after wave, and gasping "be brave!"
If they saw us all frayed, with pounding hearts swaying to the drum of the wave.
If they saw it this way, maybe the brave would have stayed.

The morning was blue, but I heard it can change
We’re only human, after all—manmade.
Moulding and shaping a future to paint
Imagine what shades we could see if we wait.

This morning was blue, but the afternoon was purple.
A shade I have never seen.
Made me not want to blink, and I think you'd like it more.
The lore was true, it does get brighter than the morning that was blue.

One day I shall see a snowflake
and identify with its purity

One day I shall smell a candle
and let it fully fill my lungs

One day I shall listen to the rain
and feel it pouring down my soul

One day I shall sip my tea
and enjoy every gulp of it

One day I shall watch the stars
and see myself running with them

One day I shall look in the mirror
and recognise a beauty previously covert

One day I shall inhale deeply
and exhale as if for the last time

One day I shall close my eyes
happy with the person I've become

One day I'll love myself
just as much as I deserve to

One day.

I can't possibly judge you
That you left me in a trice
From your hands cold to the touch
to your heart - a ball of ice

Yours collided with the warmth of mine
It gradually took a different shape
You said I robbed and left your soul
but it was yours that melted

I held the ice for far too long
My hands became too numb
They had to cope with all the cold
you always brought along

One may say the ice just vanished
I may argue it fused with my skin
From there it went through my whole body
and now I have it always in me

I loved you a little too much
And held you for a little too long
Why does it hurt so much
when you left me all on my own?

It hurts not because I miss you
That episode is long-forgotten
It hurts because you rendered me
just as you are

It hurts because whenever I go
I see you in myself
The ice is still in my blood,
my bones, my neck and veins

I know that somewhere, in the deep
There's still a source of love and warmth
It's my sanctuary, my hearth and outset
And I'll find my way back there
again

I imagine our bodies lying down
our ears desperately trying to stay awake
so that they could hear the crickets
and enjoy the creek's burble

My eyes told yours "Look, there are tulips nearby"
Your feet are extending to enter the water
There is a drop of sweat on your forehead

My tongue tastes the red apple,
Your mouth once told me it
prefers yellow ones

My mind starts counting how many
red tulips my eyes see, how many yellow ones they perceive
My soul wonders what yours is up to
Does your mind come up with
this scenery
every time
you try to
fall asleep?
Maybe it's just me.

------------------------------------------------------------­-----
The sun is smiling on a beautiful spring day
We are alone, swimming in serenity
Our hands are intertwined,
our souls longing for the same fate
------------------------------------------------------------­-----

When I am among the trees,
    especially the willows and the honey locust,
    equally the beech, the oaks, and the pines,
    they give off such hints of gladness.

    I would almost say that they save me, and daily.
    I am so distant from the hope of myself,
    in which I have goodness, and discernment,
    and never hurry through the world
    but walk slowly, and bow often.

    Around me the trees stir in their leaves
    and call out, “Stay awhile.”
    The light flows from their branches.

    And they call again, “It’s simple,”
    they say, “and you, too, have come
    into the world to do this, to go easy,
    to be filled with light, and to shine.”