i walk on the narrow streets
like nobody walks,
i feel the burning pavement
through my shoe soles
and i know
how many trees and
how many faces
the wind carressed
before it touched mine.

one day, i passed by phoneix café;
weren't you the one
playing bass guitar there?

saw you at a table before,
tying back your strings
in safe double knots
so that you show 50% of your grief
when you perform.

biker jacket, broken soul,
you were hurt by something
that you still adore.

they see that.
they find themselves in your pain.
but do i know, do the boys and the girls
in the first row know
who you were months ago?

stormy storm,
do not fade away.
the raindrops falling
as cold rivers
**** the silence and
the lonely loneliness.

the birds hiding,
the bugs diving.
still i see the pretty,
the innocent you.
connection is vital,
transparent and true.

stormy storm,
i feel your anger,
i know your rues.

why everything hurts me?
the silence i say
i am comfortable with
the people who
dont know i exist
the nights i choose
not to sleep
even the stupid storms
makes me fall in deep
the flowers scent
gives me headaches
and the empty rooms
help me break.
why everything
hurts me?

i was out dancing in the rain
when i felt the heat of the sunrise.
perhaps a thunder lightened
my heart and the top of my fingers
or perhaps a thunder made me
be the darkest i will ever be.
but somehow then i was alive.

my eyes are blue
because i stare at the sky,
my nails are black
because empathy died.

lovers and serial killers
meet at midnight.
they take the risk
and rivive the moonlight.

the dynamic clouds
are higher than you think;
i open my arms
but i can't feel the breeze.

sadness is just war
my sword is made of plastic,
but i will fight with grace
and life will seem artistic.

white tiny butterflies
fly over our heads,
they teach us how to dream
and ignore the screams.

late night party
in this grey neighbourhood;
i am living and dying
next to you.

can i hide in your arms?
can i be just who i am
in your aqua-marine eyes?
my hands are shivering,
the concept of future
makes me so scared
but
i... i am waiting for a
change.

the sun rises in the east
the sun sets in the west;
and we do the same;
we are, just like everybody is,
we are losing the game.

i wanted to write something
to find, to explain mysef.
i wanted not just to find the way
out of this labyrinth of suffering,
i wanted to make myself
look up at the beautiful sky
and enjoy the birds' songs
and the wind's voice straying
in this labyrinth next to me,
whenever i am stuck between
its tall and secure walls.

i was afraid of emptiness
and fullfilness, so i just lived.
there wasn't just day or night,
there were grey abstract times
when rational points disappeared.
in those moments some burried
their hearts in the shimmering ground
but got somehow again to the entrace.

this crazy labyrinth is the map
of my soul, the map of a ghost city,
still i don't want it to fade away
because these walls, this sky, this ground
are the only things that i have,
that are truly mine.

my cracked walls are full
of printed poems.
black and white.
but the emptiness
can have many colors;
so i choose the blue.

it s almost summer
and the sun reflects on
the white, guilty
pages of your book.
close it! and wait till
a translucid cloud
covers the star.

do you feel the coldness
in the heavy air?
do you feel the shivers
when i read those
beautiful lines pinned
to the walls and to my heart?

there is nothing
to hold on to.
memories, ilussions,
clouds, all gone.
but it's still so beautiful
when true life itself
puts you in a trance.