Dentro l’animo che prima era pieno di stelle

Certain guts are boiling
They invade
They plunder
They don't clean up the acid they leave scattered
Inside the soul that was previously full of stars

It was light
Always

Now intermittently
It breaks brittle
Without realizing it
He lives pretending to be compact, wise
Even if silent scales begin to disperse
Patience goes out
The will to consume

Sleep doesn't silence what I wish was hidden
I am indifference
And maybe it's the sentence that scares me the most
MN

Oil on canvas.