The shadows of the night gather in a distant ravine near the highway to the sky, unfinished basement like many others, they light a fire to recognize themselves but humans do not see them, they are dark to most, it takes inner sensitivity, or you have it. or not, it is not bought with securities, money or a self-declared status.
You can be straight, gay, lesbian, trans, bisexual, it doesn't matter, the Soul has no gender, there is you and the dark, Hell, Purgatory, Heaven and they, who call you and try to lure you into the their kingdom.
The sound they emit is shrill, plaintive but, little by little, it changes, it becomes recognizable, tears, as they have passed away, but then slight smiles for the weight that humanity possesses and distributes day by day on those who live.
They dance around the fire, they have rags on or even naked but full of pride for what they have done and, above all, given in terms of Love, Perversion, constant search for their limits.
It is macabre because if you see them and approach them they are of a deadly pallor, bones in sight, worthy of the scariest horror not yet written.
If you have weak hearts, do not go .... just read, it is enough to imagine the havoc of hearts, limbs and minds that these dances represent but also life lived and sufferings faced ...
The night hides this and more, if you don't have the right eyes you will never see them ....
Bones from the flow of dead bodies inside a dream of freedom.
Bones of dreams.
Closed eyes.
Dreams disclosed.
Missing at sea.
Desperate dreams.
Eaten by sea monsters.
Scraped from the bottom.
Bones ended up in fishermen's nets.
Run out of ropes,
they couldn't swim.
Living was the reason.
Surviving was the end.
Azzurra is the tomb of these gutted children.
They saw the horizon but couldn't catch it.
At dawn they found the bones inside the pots,
like jewels picked up by mistake.
I scream because they are still alive.
They await the right burial.
Little children with no future.
An innocence stained by a dark past. I can still hear the devil whispering wicked advice into my ear. My heart gradually became corrupted until it became a black hole. All that remains of me is a ravenous monster, haunted by a visceral desire to harm someone. The stomach quivers, eager to taste the taste of blood. The hands tremble with a knife, while gently brushing the delicate skin with the sharp blade, fully enjoying every moment. The cries of pain are music to my ears; an intoxicating melody that inhibits the senses. It is an iniquitous and malicious gesture, the fruit of a mind devoid of sense and a soul infected by the evil one. It takes little to shatter such fragile bones. With one creak after another I reduce you to dust, a putrid mass of dreams and hopes shattered under the weight of my shoes. There are those who would hope for a faster death, but you beg for torment; the more harm I inflict on you the more you ask for and I gladly grant you an atrocious end, because it wouldn’t be fun if you finished too quickly. Ah, the harm I could do to you if I only wanted to. In this sensitive and naive world it is so easy to break such a delicate heart. But the part of you that is dying is only your innocence, because soon you will become like me: a vicious creature, stirred up by a blind rage to bring about extermination and desolation. How sweet is the taste of death on my lips, it is a kiss of Judas what I give you. I reach you with the promise of a love, but the gift you will get will be only that of regret.
When I met you I didn't know what we would become.
I didn't know what love would turn us into.
I didn't even know that you would be the love to me that I never imagined I would find. I didn't know that love saves.
I didn't know that love would take my breath away as only you can take it, love.
When I met you I had to fight with every fear that I had always carried inside me, every day for all my life. I had to fight myself and you because you weren't real. You were dreaming and dreams hurt in the morning when you wake up. You I love you was a struggle against everything I had in my heart and brain.
Because you know, the heart goes on one side, the brain on the other.
And I believe that love is love when the brain and heart both answer yes.
Becoming yours was a reward, it was receiving the best gift ever requested and received. You weren't expected, you weren't expected to upset my life. It was not expected that together we would be different.
Beautiful things are never expected.
Love, they say, is seeing even the worst of the other beautiful and it is true. True because I see everything about you beautiful, even your worst. Because loving is first learning to love mistakes. The defects, the ugliness, the troubles of the other.
When I met you I did not know, you taught me.
Like everything else. Like to love, like to fly looking at a pair of eyes. How to write your name everywhere. How to learn how to make cakes just to surprise you.
That fighting is the most powerful demonstration of love there is.
That the sun in your eyes warms up more willingly if two hands are intertwined, especially if these hands are ours.
When I met you I didn't know that making yourself beautiful was something to give to you.
I did not know that each of your "you are beautiful" would remain engraved in the heart and each "I love you" would become a mark on the bones.
When I met you I didn't know that loving you would empty and fill me with everything and that being naked in front of you meant feeling free for the first time in my entire life.
But love, I'm not just talking about a naked me in your arms, I'm not just talking about skin that undresses and hands that touch, I'm talking about showing you my heart as it is, without barriers, without reservations: naked.You took it. I gave it to you.
And I thank you for all the fears you have taken, for all the insecurities that you have cured me, for all the still open wounds that you have disinfected me. Thanks.
Because people don't know they hurt, because life doesn't know it's hurting and because we ourselves don't know how to stop hurting ourselves and then we are poisoned by wounds that do not heal and for this I thank you for coming, for knowing you and letting myself be saved.
When I met you I did not know that love is a miracle and that the greatest miracle for me is you.
THE PRODIGY OF IDEAS 