Black holes

It turns out I'm an addict:

a spirit full of black holes

a soul in debt with the Glory

an unconscious wait

the last part of a drug effect

a stubborn craving for relapse.

It turns out I'm an addict.

It occurs I'm jumping from addiction to addiction

pretending to be happy,

turning a blind eye

to the screaming silence

 that reveals my secret loneliness;

isolation that sometimes hurts.

It turns out I'm an addict

to escaping, 

to coffee,

to hiding from myself,

to finding excuses in songs,

melodies  of frozen memories 

of anguish and nostalgia.

It turns out I'm an addict;

fearless, 

sleepless,

without any plans of conquering 

a promisory future.

It turns out I'm an addict

and you're my new addiction.

Hey, come here!

I'm inviting you to stay over

one of these nights...

Right!

In one of my many black holes.

Who knows?

...

You might end up enjoying my emptiness, 

and us, 

lost addicts

might enlighten the darkness 

of our unpredictable and twisted galaxies.

Stardust 1

The sky is full of stars

lights of death

insisting on living. 

Thousands of stars,

twinkling memories,

granted wishes

merged in sand.

Stardust, 

starfish,

stations of time;

owners of nameless

but relatable 

nostalgia.

Distant nostalgia.

Stars

whose paths 

cross once in a while

in the lively dance

of destiny.

Beholding stars,

entwining stars,

free stars,

that release

as they pass by

the sweet fragance of lovers,

unfinished caress

of unfading desire.

Yearning stars,

beholding stars,

kissing stars,

touching stars.

Stars full of memories,

disregarded distance.

Stars that are laced

by the eternity

of the same sky.