This pain,
that pierces my chest
I still feel it, my heart
although I have donated it,
it no longer belongs to me.
yet I feel it
despite being absent.
A phantom pain,
the memory of something I was,
something that was.
Nothing but a memory.
Still, I know it well
That this pain belongs to me
It’s mine,
and I’m the only one who understands it.
I accompany me,
as I walk away from here,
understanding that no one
looking in my eyes,
into this ghost,
into this void.
And so it is
That I keep filling it.
.
Lo scrittore Volante 