shattered glass
battle scars

you’re not
i am not

dark circles
black eyes
dry mouth
wet eyes

cold fingers
icy blood
white lies
black mold

we drive
in this road
way too many
bumps and holes

i can feel each
the ups and downs
every movement
and my heart pounds

it’s the music
the drum beat
that rule my chest
drive my blood
dictate my dance

and i keep
around burning stars
getting constellations
new ones
drawn on my arms


They’re right behind us

Always chasing, always hunting

“I’m getting tired”, you said

So let’s hide between the stars

Climbing through the clouds

We’ll go so high up in the skies

That they won’t ever find us

No one will ever hurt you

I will throw away my fear of heights

And you, the need of pretending


That things are alright

We’ll hide in such a safe place

That they won’t be able to cause us any harm

And everyday will be spent

Contemplating the sky

Now we’re in such a good place

That suddenly what’s past is past

Our tears are already dry

And scars are just scars

The celestial bodies light our path

Just like on ancient times

Sun and stars

Side by side

Slowly fading

Pieces of the past

Bad and good ones

Will start to disappear

We’ll cheer and we’ll feast

Glasses of poison

Castles of sand

It’s written:

Reality is an illusion

So I say

Let it be

I’ll make this reality

The most beautiful dream

This land has ever seen

Playing pretend

Once upon a time

We’ve got to escape drowning

In order to fly


my heart, it feels as if it’s going to burst
this pain, this ache, born from the doubt
fed with the noise from the outside world
that screams none of this is enough
and that i have lived less than I should

the city that surrounds me, it bores me
it’s noisy, lonely and grey
and on its tall building walls
i see my whole history written in faded paint

the nights always look the same
the stars haven’t shown any change
and the sun outside my window
it has started to set after another identical day

a new accomplishment to be grateful for
another goal to set my eyes on
that’s all i had believe to need
this is what i have been hungry for

but that’s not what is going to soothe
the addiction i have for being happy all the time
this stupid need for always being right
the thrilling feeling whenever i said for sure
that i was no more sick, that my mind was alright


I’m afraid of being who I am.

I’m afraid that the day I show my true colors people will reject me.

I want to paint my hair pink and tattoo a chamomile flower on my wrist because it’ll help me remember life’s beautiful and anxiety is  smaller than me.

I want to lose myself on the streets I choose freely without caring about who I might encounter. I want to no longer be obliged to give explanations or be afraid of misunderstandings.

I’ve always lived as if I wasn’t allowed to make mistakes. But I am. I am human, I fail. The people who judge me do it too.

If they are no gods, who are they to tell me what to do?

They tell me to toss my mask, they say I’m a fake. However once I do it, will they deal with the beast inside me? How are they supposed to understand it when I, the one who’s slept with it every night, have never been really able to?

Maybe this beast isn’t a monster, maybe it’s not even bad.

What if it’s in reality my natural state? I need to release it if that’s the case.

Won’t you let me live? I don’t remember having to ask permission in order to breathe.

If I say I’ll pay the price, will you finally let me go?

I’m packing my things, you giving me a yes or a no.