Anniversario

23 hours agoAria v1
To celebrate the anniversary of who I was, I write by the light of the window, the rear-view mirror reflects an ancient face, meter by meter. Forced to look where I pretend not to see, and so I run, change my name, look for roads where I won't fall again. I didn't think you would find me on this road of lost dreams, you send me postcards of shadows, notes from days now gone. Like half-forgotten dreams knocking softly at my door, like a pebble in my shoe that still accompanies me with every step. Memory is the warmth that burns softly in a kiss, it is the thief who breaks the neck of a rose, a bold gesture and a bold embrace. The promise tattooed under my sleeve is a secret that cannot be seen, but when night falls, the voice is the map that guides me and believes in me. I will see it every time I turn my back, even if I run away. I keep this madness in a drawer, it weighs like lead and like honey, it assails me in the empty hours, it follows me in the alleys and stairways. I would be luckier to wander with a heart that is silent and does not bleed, but the memory is my sin, a stain that cannot be rubbed away. I will never wash away the meaning, nor the stains on my hands, it takes a long way, it takes time, it takes wind to carry them far away. Every night I cut my heart a little, sew it up and let it go, a piece dies, another is reborn, learns to walk. And every dawn is an open account that I pay with a strange song, with words that taste of salt, wine, bread and this guitar. I send letters without an address, I fold them like promises, I hide them between the pages of books, between the folds of my own cracks. I will write, I swear, even if the world asks me to be silent, even if the road is long and my name is a shadow that wants to escape. I walk with the pebble, with the memory that burns and comforts, with the broken rose in my pocket and the promise that still flies. Every step is a verse, every breath a rhyme that stretches out, and my heart, blind and broken, under the collar that still adds itself. I cannot erase the past with a gesture or a toast, but I can transform pain into song, into light, into clues. The madness in the drawer becomes music if I open it slowly, take it out, make it dance, let it go by the hand. And when the night weighs heavy and nightmares knock mercilessly, I light a lamp, write the name and turn it into a city. Because even if I run, change my name, look for streets of no return, in the gaze of the compass that holds me, the lighthouse that saves me from the horizon of scorn. I will see, I know, every time the world asks me to run away, I will hear it in the breath of the wind, in the sound of the waves on the sea. And with each passing day, with a broken but sincere voice, I promise again: I will write, until the last evening.