You may not see the final destination—
but every step, every fall, is part
of something forming. The direction
you're heading will always be patient.
Even when you feel sick from believing
you're stagnant, you are still shifting.
Still becoming.

Don’t worry! The silence has its own
voice. And the waiting has meaning,
even when it feels so cruel. In time—
it will all make sense.

The past you came from will become
a mirror. And your future self will look
into it and see how far you’ve really come.

words of humble insight,
shaded with anxious desperation,
my plea showing unrivalled jealousy,
seeking approval, sorting moments searching
for a pat and or a pleasant praise of dexterity.

you left me here stranded—
these words wove me into a ball
of fire, endlessly burning ashes,
an obsolescence of essence,
a dissolution of common sense.

sometimes it’s not the world that is loud,
there’s no rain, no grey cloud,

sometimes it’s a storm inside of me,
where the wind is strong,
like a very cold breeze.

sometimes it’s the rain in my soul,
pouring emotions, telling me to let go,

sometimes it’s not the
outside world,
that is loud,
it’s my inner peace
that whirls around and
has been gathering war clouds

because sometimes
there’s too much stress,
to many thoughts, an excess

it’s not life’s best part
but sometimes
there’s a storm in my heart.

there are lightning’s, even thunder,
and I feel like I’m going under

but I better calm down,
there’s no need for me to drown.

I pick myself up, piece by piece
it’s not a fight without cease

there’s no need for preoccupation,
as long as I am, my own salvation.

- gio