It’s been a log time since I came outside real world
not because I was perfect or better, nor because I wanted to let others behind; but the truth is that I’m trying to raise and fight with my body, my other me.
I see the reflection in the mirror of a person who’s far from myself
That ugly delusional shadow of death
It’s embracing my soul and my power
And I find my way alone in the dark and I scream like a crazy for help from those people with blobby eyes who’re crossing behind me....
They look at me as I’m reborn from death and gone through Dante’s Inferno of sin and disgust, despair of an era of destruction.
Where is my father to see his model of perfection distorted in imperfection?
I’m searching utopia in dreams and failing to live in this damaged, deformed world
But nothing it’s true, it’s just hypothetical.
I need more of myself, I need more of becoming
I need to be there as much as that air that you’re breathing.
I’m craving...
Would you be ?!