Take a second or two
maybe it’s sounds like new
but I don’t know if you already knew
but this shit
it’s about you
like an baobab you grew
strong, hard to hit
more strong you became
this damn thing looks like a game
that I tired and bored to play
but, who give a damn, anyway?
nobody can see, nobody want know about it
it’s only about you and me
my bitter oldest companion



Air has turned to something heavy
like spikes into your belly
dead butterflies can’t fly
sad moments stand by
a poem without feeling
a pretty line without someone to read it
an intent without meaning
a pray withtout a God to laugh on it

Not Ironic?

Blast off
turn down
misunderstood message like a cloud in the dark night
that dark mood isn’t soft
take off the make up off, clown
It’s funny? Still have something to laugh?
Don’t matter look up high, trying to search a star that can guide
the ego hold you down, “let’s stay on ground”
the night still calling out
still have so many clouds
funny, so many will call this ironic
but, have so many clouds, and here, with me
no one around
only shadows, a intense feeling of shallow
shallow, sad shadow, hollow…


Sentimental, detrimental
this society like to put you down
even if you are part of royalty and wear a crown
in a place full of clowns
there’s no place for pierrot
you dying looking for love
and have only sulfur, tears and sorrow
and more sadest than this
is to see that have so many that want to follow
this path
without care
that have a bad end

Not just a game…

Self destruction never felt so sweet
and you don’t even need
13 Reasons to feel it
it’s in the air, it’s is in the media
“a sad bitch that deserve it”
are this shit real? are this shit the real deal?
try to search in wikipedia
“…is a state of low mood
aversion to activity that can affect a person’s thoughts…”
why it’s so hard to the world to understood?
that depression isn’t just a silly joke
it’s real, a state of mind, a wound into our soul
that won’t heal
with jokes and bullies, with shallow discuss
or stupid games with bad ends
they use the image of “blue whale”
to fed up their sick sense
of “a nice game”, just a game…
Sickers, creepers, without care
these motherfuckers play with who just need to share
the pain inside, the pain that is to heavy to carry
and thinks that suicide is the only way…

The Bleed of Envy and Empty

Please, let me blind and deaf
give me only my tongue to eat
break all my bones and cut off my hands
let me dying slowly, alone, I am not part of the elite

Bleed, envy of everything
that become nothing
no sense become the path
that lead us without north

Voice, the voice became
the wind that blow me away from what I want
“better dead, better”
Is all that what this awful partner said

Bleed, envy of everything
that become nothing
no sense become the path
that lead us without north

Utopia of a Sober Moment Before the Hysteria

Keep spinning, singing about the last evening
when the pain of mistress finally finds the end
without care about who gonna listen
about the seven sins
and the burn of the last cigarette into your skin
drunk, keep drinking
no head itch, if it really have the kind of importance
ignorance is bliss, so let’s pretend that we miss
the last ten seconds of soberness
mess, don’t have a carpet
to put all this mess below, oh no
the warm of the flame
of the ignorance is leaving
and giving us the moment of clarity
that living into the utopia
is the worst part of our inner hysteria…