Throat

This scream shall be swallowed
for the time being at the very least
The size of a fully-formed fist punching
down my throat
Every day when I am not asleep
the pressure of lacking a smile as I woke

This painting shall be hung
Up on the highest wall of my memory
With the bright red color of shame
poisoning rivers of dead fish and dirty water
A scenery for which no one's to blame

This chill shall be faced
fully and bravely, still
for as long as it takes for me to know
when I am gonna stand on my own
and not sinking down ships for cheap thrills

not enough time to heal

In Time

Not even the massive tempest could wet
the tiny detail
A single crack in the structure
the fall of it all
I love you like I've never loved before
and I can't match the level you've met and adored
What is it about our past?
What the hell about glories and forgotten lovers?
Is the garden of daisies I've grown the past few weeks
smaller than what you've seen in the forest of your yesterdays?
There is the detail yet, you will want and it will wet
rain remains unforgivable

But still don't you drive like tragic
When it's crystal clear it is only coming at you
The mirror doesn't mix well with the recipe of my eyes yet
Let me be the wreck of your trains
the rainbow connection in your wires
and the data that runs through
would only be singing my sighs

Needs of the flesh will remain needs of the flesh
and our ideals above them all
even while feeble, softly sewn fabric burns softly
to pointless desire
Red as desire will always be
but hollow as it's always been
and still I would be following you

So please forget yourself around
for you will be painted in the brightest frame I've found
so that such beautiful energy gets stuck in the world we live in
And I will stare until my grin
rusts to death
the final smile on a royal chair
happy to know we'll have met then

A mountain of singing birds in a chorus
below our feet

The Tide

A little scar under my fingernail
Tiny, but large enough to be read by the careful eye
the smallest mark of the damage you have become
A sign still undone of this mess we were in

And as the hawk was landing
My Noah's ark is finally at peace
with such dope release
and never before seen footage
of the confidence all over the place
So the lab tells, my blood analysis' back
Saying high on low self esteem
or is it misreading "high on clouds above"?
How could I know
while watching birds dancing along, and me here
grounded

A soft pain underneath my fingernail
some cut keeps bothering me still
but it should be left beneath my trail
of dry leaves put aside
if you look at the letter it's easy to figure for real
between mirrors
a B morphs into an 8
and the result is the same, as my faith
never denied me a ride

Whilst the hawk lands on messy ark
I glide with friendly doves
over the tide

Bouquet

With golden stealth, the spider danced among her webs
an amazingly drawn design
but useless, still
for no painter she becomes
no artist will ever recognize her gift
and therein will lie her grief
until distracted feet step over her work of art

Dancing for the last time,
eight tangled legs slowly drawn together upside down
and the unexpected victory blossoms:
her death a masterpiece,
a design without struggle or sound
so that any careful eye could tell

Body upside down, and a bouquet of legs
with a single message:

"flowers overwhelm"

Truly

Do you still remember, after all this mess we were in
how the absence of good-night wishes made you sad and made you cry
and can you still see from wherever you are
how he is not even nearly willing to try?
It's not that you could ever be replaced
not even nearly
but I miss you the most
forever truly
I still feel the touch of your hand
taking me from my thoughts
because you missed the way we laughed
and you missed the way we talked
and you missed me when I closed the door
and left you as if I didn't care at all
and did I, after all?
I can't tell what happened then
but it's crystal clear to me now

That you could never be replaced
not even nearly
and it's your love I miss the most
always truly

your sweetest piano still tuning in my mind
and the songs you never played...

Plea

You insist on doing the same shit
no wonder it's so easy these days to see you
falling to your feet
If there's no life to be felt inside your sparkless little heart
be brave enough to tell them how you're falling apart
and stop pretending there is beauty in the tragedy you built so far
Tragedies are nothing but sad, after all
if you just choose to hide when you're about to fall

But then again, you can't tell what it is like
To know where you're going and fail to stray from the path
We can't glow in the dark
and you would just disappear
without traces of glory, and any light nowhere near
I fear you will leave unnoticed
and then later your brilliance discovered
when it's worth nothing to you anymore
and others would profit on your heritage
and nothing would ever be enough
to fill the space born when you were gone

You insist on doing the same shit
over and over
but try just once to lean on this shoulder
and quietly listen to my speech

Bodies on the Air (A Spaceship Tale)

there was a spaceship
full of anxious people in it
and they couldn't get out because of this man
cruel and unfair
which ruled the whole place
and listened to every conversation
watching for each dangerous tonation
and destroying their plans of escape without a trace

every time one would look out and wonder
how soft and sweet the air and the breeze would be
straight on the face
one would be detected as a weak point
and would then vanish
nowhere to be seen, no visible disgrace
as the cruel man would act in the shadows

but the sky held the spaceship steady and smooth
whispering to every passenger
messages of victory and love
waiting on their next move

once an accident occured
as small holes through the glass surfaced
and people started gathering around them, shocked and amazed
for having a glimpse of such temptating and forbidden freedom
but he wouldn't make it easy, and he wouldn't work no less
so the cruel man spreaded lies about the glass
and the supposedly poisoning nature of the wind coming from it
but they wouldn't believe it forever
and nothing would stop their attack
when the time arrived

every time the cruel man would look out, distracted
they would talk in the lowest voice
about how the clouds would soon grab their feeble bodies,
and the wind would swallow quickly their faces
until they had no other choice
and the plan was reaching perfection,
until ready for the execution

so the sky held the spaceship steady and smooth
whispering to every passenger
messages of victory and love
waiting on their next move

the first november night
was the day chosen for the final flight
as they started to surround the cruel man while he remained asleep
trusting his dreams of power and manipulation
but then started the fight, one would hold his neck very tight
and the other, enjoying the moment, would twist his head aside
so that, with a final breath of defeat
the cruel man had no longer his living pride

every time they looked at each other,
the eyes translated disbelief
and everybody, still astounded, started walking to the broken glass
ready as never before to make the final move and finish the quest
for forbidden freedom, heavenly and eternal
so the glass broke down
and the air rushed in
and the pressure rushed out
bodies on the air dancing alive,
among clouds of bewildering desire
young birds learning to take flight

as the sky held the spaceship steady and smooth
and welcoming every passenger on the move
teaching them how to breath,
as free as the air they fell through.