Fragments

I have tried to remove marks from the skin, undo knots in my chest and throat, unraveling is never final. I link myself again between broken questions and doubts. I gave him my heart and he returned it to me broken in many places, it is no longer of any use to me, I only have a terrible emptiness left that based on invented hopes I cannot fly. I have the feeling of loss in my soul, the opposite idea in my head screaming that I can get ahead without that daffodil by my side.

The only force there is lives inside me, a piccolo that becomes the most important thing, the primordial part of a beginning.

I have cried so much that I feel dry, a desert after the gloomy flood. I'm in bed, in the fetal position, counting the seconds, and I lost the count. Rejection is expensive, to love and not be reciprocated, to want and in return receive the worst. Idiot that I am for allowing the birth of a feeling dedicated to him. There remains a disorder that releases me into the void, I don't w