Just Maybe Forse Ciao

Suspension. It is that state you find yourself in when nothing is enough anymore. When you want more and more is delayed. London,  that was the safe haven,  today is violent and spills blood over my shaking consciousness. New York, is far and lost. Without a purpose, it does not exist, anymore. Italy, never ceases to appeal and disappoint. There is a feeling of nostalgia of something that I lived. But too short too little and now it's growing rooting feeding in me and doesn't let go of me. Like that first moment you just met the person you will fall in love with and afterwards the details of that first encounter  will look like china dolls, just perfect. Uneasy with feelings in the present feelings of an untrustworthy heart, and missing the feelings of the past those not reciprocated  and the feelings of the future those suffocated before they could show their true face. Suspensio...

We lie.  All the time. To each other, at different lengths,  For different reasons To ourselves. Accidentally,  We all need the lies To cope with the mismatch Between what we would like things to be And what things actually are,  To look reality in the face And admit  Is a step Way too painful Way too unpredictable For many to do. We adjust We adapt We convince ourselves And others if necessary. We conceal.  In between colours that we like. And yes,  Some don't even feel That burning growing inside For the need to let go Finally Eventually Accidentally. We let it happen And some never wonder How would it be To smash that glass of hypocrisy That we all build to survive And not just glance on the other side But actually face it. To say That I don't think  I can call love something different From that feeling of loss of gravity Of perfect positioning in time and space In perfect balance between true sex and discovery of oneself That he could represen...

There is a moment when things start to fall apart and she starts making up conversations in her head to create a decent ending where a decent ending was indeed needed and never came. - Cause you and I were never meant to meet -  If she could just change one silly night,  She could be spared the questioning That followed  - And this was never supposed to happen -  All those minutes in the subway carriage going north were not supposed to be preparation of that true and truthful she. By mistake even. She did not mean to.  - Cause you are not important enough to make me suffer -  She should have just stayed away,  As she had learned to do already Stay away from those who Like him Suck away her energy Her ability to trust And make her feel worthless - Cause this is me, wishing for every soul that glitters for me to adore me - - Cause this is you, unable to move beyond your patterns -...

What is that she does best? Scooping out connections,  No, not really.  Starving for communication. Not even that. Placing expectations on people To act as she needs them to act. Why?  That is close enough. As she needs to be in control Even when she wants to lose control. Yes. And then she gets hurt. Not because someone did not call When he was supposed to call. Not because she wanted more  From him Or anyone really. But because the script got lost  She lost control And she lost something of herself in the process. And that was not supposed to happen.  But most importantly She lost importance She lost the protagonist role. What does she do best? He does not even wonder. How she appears She does indeed wonder.  How would she have looked In that portrait he almost made of her. Every time,  Every fucking time,  She lets that part of her Communicate  With a random part of a random someone Who for a fraction of a second Is available And rece...

For the first time in forever she had let herself hope. And she is now afraid. Desines timere, si sperare desieris. You'll stop being afraid once you stop desiring. Cause someone, she didn't know that, could still get access to her could still break through. It was his light  Unaware A light for her world. Just because he is now only in her head  it does not mean he is, he was, not real. His smell And the excitement  Unexpected and therefore more welcome. Like one of those nights that lasts for a week Like an iced champagne bottle.  And now she is afraid. To not be desired.  To be forgotten. Cause she was most likely the only one Making a night last a week And she surely got drunk with the iced champagne. As usual Lack of Synchronicity  Has killed A possibility for exploration. And she needs to grow up and go back  To reality. Reality which was not  That night  Of synchronicity With New York Exploding in her stomach. And the proble...

I want to move you without intruding  in your real life Because I cannot,  intrude in your real life,  can I? I want to touch all untouchable emotions in this very night of New Year's Eve those that freeze your heart or melt it Because at the end of the day it is the heart that guides your voice your eyes your sexuality. Yes, even your sexuality our sexuality, pleases the heart after instantly pleasing the body. There is hardly any time left to share for real You and I But you invite me to stay in the corner of your eyes And I do,  starving  for communication And I need to ask tonight and tomorrow and in the new year, Do you want me to love you? Do you want me to stay there, in the corner of your eyes? Do you want me to keep caressing  your id at distance? or closer? Or should I just stay where I am and let it die? Could I come a little closer? Wo...

- Love me until I am me - She wants to say to him. Something had snapped inside. Something had changed. Walking down Bleecker Street,  The snow in torment A tempest of flakes touching her everywhere. They stick to her coat, her hat, her hair.  Nothing else sticks so much these days. Or maybe that is not even true. New York is saying a not wanted goodbye. The sun went down in Manhattan and she was on fire. Like in London, a while before. Who cares, she can see things she has never really noticed In the Village today.  And she is tired of feeling uncomfortable feelings. - With true love comes true sex -  Or the other way around. - With true sex comes true love -  Yes? - Why do you feel this thing this deep this way? As if it was meant to be -  Because with true love, she has always expected true sex The kind that shakes her up from the core That challenges her That pushes her into th...