The 3 sides of every story

I love her...that's the truth, the only I actually know

She loves him...and who else, in every real story there's an him who's better than you

He loves me...and that could also sound weird but, if you think, it completes a perfect three sides story

I used to work on Saturday night and I couldn't help thinking about her that she was probably out with him, losing herself in his big dark eyes and struggling for his impenetrable distance; I couldn't help thinking about her while I was lace up another print. He was there, where I would have died to be, wasting another worthless night...

Feelings...like a warm breeze in the night sky, while the clouds cut the moon and with dead eyes I stare at motionless stars, captured in monochromatic paintings, regaining a bit of youth, try to save time previously lost.
I'd never had to go away that night, I'd never had to leave compassion behind. Now that I understand all of this I struggle deep within me...
...and I'd wish you still feel the same...

The night of the one

A melody echoing in the distance from an old tired speaker...just a distant memory and the smell of old summer comes close like it was yesterday...like they were never gone away...
She was there, dancing in front of me somewhere far beyond a dream; I can still recall the smell of the cutting grass, the sun up in the blue sky, the feeling that it would be forever...
Damn how is easy but at the same time hard to recall this, how I wish to be able to forget forever...but what will be left of me without this memories?
That was the last time I saw her, the emblem of our youth, I wonder where she could be now after all this time...Seasons have passed by in front of me since then but even now I'm always riding the same feelings of once, always find the right question to no answers, wishing it could have been forever...

To leave is a bit like to die

To leave sounds like to die.

To be gone means to live through the eye of a memory.

When you leave a place that has been like your home for a while, all you left behind is all the people there will remind about you. Memories are the elements by which a man is built of, what you leave about yourself to the others is what make you what you are, more than every possible truth everywhere...
Fragments of memories that slowly build a personality, that slowly build an history, knowing all of this pieces of reality is like knowing ourselves better, like we'd never been able to do in any other way.

But if no one is there, where a soul is supposed to burn?
No one there
No one there
No one has never been...

When the end calls...

Maybe is thinking through different prospectives that makes real whatever you're living and passing by...

The days are gone, sometimes even too fast, too similar one to another to keep a perfect memory of each one...but they are passed and gone...the memories sometimes make you laugh, sometimes they make you cry but isn't this what we all go through to find the other half of this true? And what if there's no true? Haven't you think about that? Never?
Sometimes is hard to say goodbye, sometimes you got that feeling to say "just wait one more minute, just one more" and the words just choke in your deep self...I'm still here by your side, everything is gonna be fine now but nothing is gonna last forever...I never said that and I just knew that you were not gonna stay...

You were crying while whispering those words, is that what we leave when we're gone? When we share a memory we become part of another memory yet to start, when we share a laugh is just like join our souls forever, melting them together, chasing themselves 'til the end of the times...
It's always the same float of emotions, hiding in empty walls while all the unsaid comes to the light and make us wish to be gone...

And even after everything I still wandering where you will be now, if you're still watching at the same moon of once and if you still bear the same sorrows and the same nightmares that had taken you away...if only you were still here...

...and I wish...again...and again...