SEI PERSA

The world around seems to hum with other people's happiness, while my head is filled only with the rustle of thoughts and cigaret smoke. In every breath, an attempt to catch your breath from fatigue; in every exhale, an admission that the road still leads nowhere. The songs of such evenings sound like confessions without an addressee: you want to steal a little light from someone and hide it in your broken heart so it stops trembling from the cold. Where the asphalt meets the sky, dreams look especially fragile. Mistakes aren't corrected, they just change shape like the pills you swallow to forget who you are. And yet, a tiny "what if" lives inside: what if we can get out, what if all is not lost. For now, the only thing that's saving me is that someone else is also lost, which means I'm not alone.