This desert in which I continue to suffocate
I breathe hard and swallow sand, wind
But then everything in here disappears, as if I had
A black hole in the middle of the heart
From which he never returns
And they are no longer there
And now that I've turned off my reason
I push myself further down
In this black hole there is no time
And with difficulty I walk, with difficulty I breathe
I see things and write them, I hear things that I avoid
They are daggers that I have carefully sharpened
And I know, I should be afraid of it but instead I play with it
But I see things you can't understand
You can't feel my pain
That it were also true that I created it
But if you play with it a little too much, do you see what it has become?
A black hole in the middle of the heart
From which he never returns
And they are no longer there
And now that I've turned off my reason
I push myself further down
And they are no longer there
You can't follow me anymore
That there is no truth here
This pain is not a friend
And even if you had nothing to do with it