Mimesi,

č essenziale, ormai.

Celi alla perfezione tutto,

nessuno sa come sei,

chi sei.

Your real self is buried,

hidden deep inside you.

No one can see it,

it's wearing such an happy mask,

no one could ever see beyond it.

It's bleeding,

and smiling.

The mask can't hide the blood.

It's all around it.

That slim, pale thing

can only hide,

she's too scared of coming out of her hole.

Once the darkness was just around her,

now she is darkness.

She can't come out of there,

they are bounded,

she cannot see in the light,

not anymore.

Light is scary,

others could see her,

they could define her,

see her real shape.

They mustn't,

she cannot let them do it,

it would be too painful.

A prick.

A really painful one.

They have seen it.

They saw the truth.

I have no disguise left,

I'm totally naked,

I'm defenceless.

I'd better run.

Run fast, before they realize I'm gone,

or they'll ask.

Explanations hurt,

they make you remember, afresh.

You can't take it, not again.

Memories hurt more than burns,

once they arise from their beds.

Unseen, in the dark,

you're free.

Free to breath,

to move,

to live.

Bathed in silence, you can stare to the world,

let it flow into you,

kindly,

slowly.

You can understand it.

Consciousness is such a weight.

Stop your brain,

stop your thoughts,

don't you feel lighter?

So light that your head could start floating in the air.

Pale, white and smooth skin,

no marks on it,

it's so pure,

in the light.

But in the shades

you can see bruises and scars.

Some old, some new,

some really small, and other so huge they are even brighter than the skin.

Memories of old days,

and recent ones.

There is no other way to see 'em,

you're not allowed,

a cloak of delight is in your way,

your sight cannot pass through it,

it's thick

and fits the shape perfectly.