Parole...Parole...Parole

E' un vuoto spaventoso, che mi scivola dentro freddo e silenzioso. E' non sentire nulla. Non sento nulla se non la voglia, il desiderio, la brama, quella spinta compulsiva a sentire qualcosa. Che sia calore, che sia dolore, poco importa. E' vuoto qui dentro, troppo vuoto. Non so come spiegarlo, non so come riempirlo. Allo specchio vedo quel vuoto, quell'immagine di vuoto riflessa, me stessa. Come si riempie un vuoto buio e freddo? Cosa riempie un vuoto?

I'm a mess. In all my thoughts and actions. I'm a mess. In life, in dreams I do. In all I feel, I live, I understand. I'm a mess. ❖ I'm a mess. In the need of caresses that I don't ask you. I'm a mess. In the effort to give me an attitude with you. I'm a mess. In trying to give you my dark love. I'm a mess. In show you the worst that I have inside. I'm a mess. ❖ I'm a mess. I am a trapped soul in a dirty cage

"...It's what you wanted, right? It's what you wanted, right?! And...and now everybody's in here, talking. Everything I did, everyone I... and him. And it. The other... the thing... beneath... beneath you. It's here, too. Everybody... they all just tell me go. Go... to hell [...] shame on you. Why does a man do what he mustn't? For her. To be hers. To be the kind of man who would nev... to be a kind of man. And she shall look on him with forgiveness... and everybody will forgive and love. He will be loved. So everybody's okay, right?..."