To see everyday the name of broken dreams in which the word indifference is carved deep into, is too much to tolerate; the daily stab of the unrealizable memory started to numb this body and this soul. A mind constrained to events that never happened, whenever it was seen, brought it all back by reminding the existence of the eternally open wound.
It still bleeds!
Was there blood left...?
Never expecting to see vital signs yet, knew nevertheless that it wouldn't last for long. This heart pounding with the rhythm of its last beats brought the nostalgia of bright days in which the dream was enough to move on and wake up with a smile on the face.
Ma ancora... Si muove!
Tears that aren't for any-body, keep trying to wipe off the illusion's leftovers.
Whenever that name reaches sight, pseudo-feelings that were never there are remembered with humid disappointment and the pain; oh, the pain of the inexistent loss!
This hole's lack of emptyness hurts.
(Can't take it, can't take it.)
TO ERASE IS TO CEASE.
Desired impossibility spelled in every single letter.
The shattered covering that once faked its existence beneath an empty disguise is now thrown as meaningless pieces next to the corpse of the once wanted...
But that, in reality, was never there.
The word lays still, yet it is still felt.
"I can't go on, I'll go on" - Samuel Beckett
(10 may 2007, 00:00)