I have never been able to understand the panic that some people have about death.
\nThe truth is that I am not afraid to die,
\nif that's what I am, a survivor in life.
\nWhat terrifies me is living.
\nWhat terrifies me are the cold winter days,
\nAnd let there be no hand that rests on mine and tells me that the storm will pass.
\n-Both. The one outside and the one inside.<\/p>\n
What terrifies me are the incessant doubts,
\nthe strings of voice due to the pain,
\nthe darkness that looms every time I turn off the light.
\nAnd all I see is fear.
\nAnd me suffering,
\nbreaking down missing something to shake me up but for once,
\ndon't stun, just wake up.<\/p>\n
I am afraid of heights,
\nthe skyscrapers to which my hope and my desire to throw everything away, including myself, are fleeing.<\/p>\n
My chest is sore, and full of feelings and I love yous that I don't say.
\nI have tinged sadness, disguised with phrases like: it's just a bad day, or the tireless \u201dnothing, nothing is wrong with me\u201d. But everything is wrong with me.
\nI tremble surrounded by sheets that neither cover me nor provide me with warmth.
\nI tremble clinging to the idea of feeling something inside other than emptiness or dead butterflies.
\nI tremble because I want to stop feeling this irrational fear, and why lie;
\nI also want to stop shaking.<\/p>\n
That's why when they ask me
\nwhat I am afraid of,
\nI say that above all to what my verses say because they describe to perfection all my torment.<\/p>\n
Because they tell the story that I drag every Sunday or Friday night that becomes an impossible burden to lift.
\nBecause I feel like writing without contexts.
\nTo love without regrets.
\nTo live,
\nwithout fear of the wind blowing.<\/p>\n