Back to my anger routine, back to my second nature. Throughout my childhood, death was so familiar. Spirits dropped by the dozens.
They were the truffle of the earth, the remnants of that lost humanity.
I tried to breathe the peace of today, but I continued to suffocate by the blues of yesterday.
Beloved, grant me your wisdom, embrace me, allow me to greet my ruined childhood and forgotten beliefs.

Artwork by elizabetta renosto