Couldn’t

1, 2, 3…

I’ll just turn the lights off.

1, 2, 3…

I’m counting my reasons.

1,2,3…

I’m counting my crimes.

I close my eyes and I can’t see what’s inside.

I can’t find the «why» and neither the «you shouldn’t » but I’m immersed with the «I couldn’t».

Should I leave my hands behind?

Yes, I should.

(But I just couldn’t keep too much to myself)

1, 2, 3…

His tongue is running down my neck while my conscience collapses quietly.

(Thousands of voices inside of me are trying to say what it’s obvious)

(But, I can’t get enough of it yet)

This room suffocates me.

There’s sin everywhere but there are also many traces of doubts that gave me answers.

You see blood on the sheets, but I see the reasons that I tried so hard to find…even though I can’t dare to look at them closely and right in the eye.

There’s too much to see.

There’s too much to seek.

There’s so much more to judge.

But there’s also much to hide…

I don’t want to close my eyes but I don’t dare to see what you left inside me and neither what I hid from myself.

The voices are clear and my fears are becoming real even when they seem weak to me.

1, 2, 3…

I’m guilty.

(There’s no doubt of that)

1, 2, 3…

My hands are not the only ones that carry the crime, but somehow I’m the only one that needs to leave this behind.

I’m looking at my sin over my shoulder.

Somehow, killing my feelings didn’t hurt, at last.

No, don’t you dare turning the lights on.

No, not yet.

Why? Because I have not bled enough yet.

1, 2, 3…

I’m leaving this room with a drained body…

And you?

I’m leaving you here with the knife that killed my kindness.

And this crime? Keep it. Please.

1, 2, 3…

(I guess I’ll just whisper to myself that I want more even though I shouldn’t.)

And yes it’s true…

1, 2, 3…

I shouldn’t do this.

But I just couldn’t.

Fotografía: Stefano Majno