Underflow

Within the symptons of something unknown, i can feel how deep i am
stucked in myself. I was hoping to be something more than it, but
i am limited to be it: just another contained universe.
How could it be so harmful to believe that my feelings are mute
outside me... How it is harmful. But it's ok to feel safe in my own essence
and protected to the fear that warm me to the dangers of differences.

I can remember times in wich i bleeded poems to you, my lord.
I can remember times in wich my heart were a sore, an open sore.
I can remember elegies i made just to show to myself how i felt.

Could i scream inside me and make you hear all these chaotic feelings?
— Please, say to me it's possible: i'm too weak to be talking now.
Lovely dancing the same silence i was in that night that i remembered
times in wich everything was different than now. I were feeling the
same, but the same feeling wasn't the same impact inside me.
Blessed with disgraces embrasses, i can sleep now...

I can remind of myself in all of that cage of racks...
Oh, how it was pleasant and harmful to be bleeding the love i
wish i could give to you...
Maybe you'll never listen to what i never said to you, and it's so...
So... Hard to me to understand.

01/06/2011