Sit, relax, and watch

Front row, best seat.
Sit, relax, and watch
What’s happening around you
And inside you.

People’s life happen in the background
And you see shadows of it,
Little photograms that make you dream
In colours.

And lights switch on and off apartments
Full of love, and fears, and dreams,
And expectations.
And there are offices, parks, cafes, schools
Populated with life, and traces of me,
Everywhere, spread in those souls,
Trying to make sense of things and return home.

I have been abroad far too long
From myself, and it’s time to close
The shutters and reconvene
With my dreams,
Sitting at the table of honesty
With the glass of truth
In my hand,
Resting on the promise
I will always catch myself back.

The midnight bell rings
The chariot turns into a useless
Prop
The mirror stays,
Calling my name
After all this run,
I realised,
I just lost a ballet shoe, and
A couple of rhymes.

Cityscape

The town looks so empty
And every corner reminds me
Of your laughter the day
We shared a red scarf
On the grey concrete.

Fiends on adventures,
We didn’t know what we had
At that time…
We let it slip away
To wash away our
Faults, our fears, and inability
To stay.

The town looks so lost,
And every corner reminds me
Of what we could still be
If we only had the courage
To stay, and say “I am sorry”
And to forgive, ourselves first.

The town looks so grey,
And I no longer wear that scarf
Matching the colour of your cheeks
While making French jokes.
You were funny, I though then,
You were lonely, I think now.

And in my attempt to fill your empty
Space, I gave you too much
All left in me…
All I had, to sew the pieces together
Of this intricate friendship
That was slipping far from me.

Now I am empty
And you’re not here
To fill my loneliness
With your jokes
To kneed your heart in pounds of sugar
Just to see me smile
To retrieve my childhood
And serve it to me
Freshly baked in wonder.

It’s always winter here
Although I bet you have more snow
Than me still.
I wish you could still catch me
Sometimes
Dreaming of Paris and macarons,
Laughing at jokes,
Savouring life in full flavour.

Hug me

I am also asking for a hug:
A hug as deep as the ocean
Where two souls can comfortably sit,
And silently stay;
A hug made of words, and connection,
Of vulnerabilities with no fear.

A hug made of smiles and sunrises,
Where we can truly meet,
Real, for the first time.
A hug that can seal the occasion of
Being alive, together, on this planet
And having met, by chance, as soul siblings.

An invisible hug, that touches our hearts
Before even reaching my skin.

I would like to meet you there,
Up in that orbit,
Just before the plane of your hand
Lands on my shoulder.

To Mo , my brother

A spider’s tale

I am made of words and spires
Curls of butterflies
Reaching for souls

Disintegrated certainties
Converging into a smile
That tries to bridge
Divergences and
Connect
There
Where
The worlds
Effortlessly collide.

Just meet me there, wishing
Upon a star, collecting memories
Of impermanent moments and impermeable pain. Just meet
Me there, custodian of truth
Irreverent like fire over the shore
Of possibilities.

And it’s just a moment there,
When a hawk comes and takes away
Your faith,
And force you to look through
Life with other eyes.
Hope, one could say,
It’s just a vulnerable fleeting heartbeat,
And I am hanging onto it
Like a spider to his web.

De-ceased

The nail varnish remover fills the room
Polluting the air and then
Boredom on a dance floor
Where everyone brush their Friday away,
Asynchronous with the sound downstairs.

It’s such a paradox,
By which I should be happy
And I am here counting sheep
As a revenge to my sleepless nights
Spent dreaming to be alive.

It’s such a paradox,
By which I should be dancing,
And I am here staring at shadows
As a reaction to my wasted years
Spent searching for higher meaning.

It’s such a paradox,
By which my cloak runs backwards
As I move forward towards a future
Made of chalk,
Full of promises and threats
Ambivalent,
And decadent,
Almost a vaporous awaking from a dream
A ruthless truth,
A tired fairytale,
A deceased paradise.

A dream’s price

Today, also dreams have a price:
Sometimes they cost you your pride,
When you try to defend them
From the fair of rationality.

They do define you, sometimes
They stain you with their magic
And everyone can smell them on you.

Not everyone likes their scent,
Some people push them so hard
That it’s impossible not to get hurt
It’s impossible not feeling ashamed
Sabotaging your own treasure.

And yet, some dreams stay
Tattooed on your heart
Indelible,
Undeniable,
Unbreakable.

Abide

Do you think it’s easy to be me?
Everyday I wake up as a supernova, on
The verge of explosion.
Trying to contain contrasting
Forces, strongly pressing
Against the walls of my heart,
Emotions in motion causing
Internal earthquakes,
Tornado of feelings shattering
Every balance.

And I am asked to live with
Composure and grace,
Gently walking on the line of
Social norms and expectations…
But I am clumsy as an elephant
Walking on a tightrope,
Dealing with my inner storms
And trying to keep my monsters at bay,
So that I could look normal in a world that
Expects perfection.

And I do manage, sometimes
To be ordinary, bleeding secretly my
Serum of magic under the carpet of those
Willing to see,
To see me, for who I am.

In those brief moments,
I am alive, and I can let my light out
For a little bit,
And I can release the tension of
Constantly walking on pointe
By just being myself:
Accepted
Wanted
Invited even,
Appreciated even.

There, in those eyes full of marvels
I shall find my haven,
And abide.