Fragments of me
they scatter on the way
leaves let go
from their stem
imbued with joy and pain
full of thoughts
short paragraphs
of a long history
called life.
Like quick flashbacks
fragments of the desired existence,
flashes of the soul
tear the gray veil
of our daily life,
to paint a dream
that shines wonderful
and still unites us.
They exude hope
the walls of this room,
white shines
to make the heart
less grim,
candida shines
like the soul that does not lie,
it feels like heaven
but it is only a reflection
of your smile.
Deep down I look at you
and so I find you again,
sweet as ever
with the beating heart
exploding with passion
to overcome the dark
and every obstacle
that stands in the way
to our love.
Infinite spaces await us
to free our imagination
and fly again
beyond all limits
to try again
the thrill of living
in the rumble of the heart.
Silence like music
fills the atmosphere,
in gazing
a rising sun
in the breath of nature,
sweet melody
made of thoughts
that like sweet notes
caress hearts.
I've been through storms
that shook the soul,
I have endured the pain of my demons
uncomfortable traveling companions,
overcoming all fear
to find myself again
and understand the value
of my life.
Last remnants of summer
the sea seems to calm down
the air freshen up,
almost an unexpected stasis
moments of tranquility
thoughts go up
on the mountain of duty
the heart remains in the arms
of pleasure.
And then for some reason
you find yourself once again embraced
realizing that you wanted just that
feel her skin on yours
get intoxicated by its perfume
as you open your eyes
to start a new adventure.
In the shadow of the clouds
of distant memories
new ones are born
sprouts of emotion
that someone calls
love flowers
in their perfume
life still blossoms.
Nothing can make me forget
I will carry every moment with me
I will live the time
as if there was no tomorrow
to stop him in that fatal moment
of the melody of your heartbeat.
There is more silence today, perhaps more than it has ever been, but it is a beautiful silence. A thoughtful silence. And so I think about the days to come and how they will hurt and I will need you but the distance will hide you and the world will seem cruel. And I will hate him for it. I think I will hate a lot of things. And so I think about how I will try to keep it alive. How will I save all the words that I have scattered in my mind. I will collect them all so that in the moments when I fear fading I will return to them. Relive the past just like Gatsby said it. I could be as crazy as he is. And I don’t think I’ll ever feel alone if I hold on to what you said. Only when the words break will I be truly alone. And I have a feeling you won’t let that happen. ….. The first words that come to my mind are. I like to complicate things. I like to complicate things in a beautiful way. I’m not sure if it’s frustrating or manic for people, but I want to see their faces all happy and confused. I want to do things in the craziest way possible to show that I care. To show that I love. I want to commit to doing something no one else would do and see the expression on their faces. That’s all I want. I just want to see their faces light up and say “What’s wrong with you? Because? Oh my God ”That’s all I want. I want to show them that the beauty of what they give me has to be something worth remembering and the only way I know of to do that is to give them a story to remember …Do you see that light? It is brighter than the sun. Maybe that’s what we’ll see when the end comes. No, that’s not what you think. He is a man with a cigarette hiding in the trees. Yes, it is fading now. The only thing that has kept us warm so far. We are just losing ourselves in what we feel. ….. I know I spend too much time worrying, wondering and looking back on past things and moments in the past and the still reverberating echoes of my history, but these are the things we know for sure, aren’t they? Those things are certain and no one can say anything against it. The past can be confirmed by everyone because we have already been there. We have lived it. We all have different versions of it, a different story to tell, but the important thing is that we had those stories and they actually happened. I don’t know why, I don’t understand any of this and it might confuse many of you, but the thing that bothers me the most is why the things that happened so long ago have such a powerful effect on your soul. How can something be so real? It might sound ridiculous to most, but that’s the only way I understand it. Sometimes it’s almost too good to feel what I’m feeling. There is just no explanation. The explanation will always be vague and even if I feel it right now and have no doubts in my mind that what I feel is real, it cannot be explained. I think this must be the exact state of thought my mind is in right now. How confused and confused are the internal mechanisms of my brain.
THE PRODIGY OF IDEAS 