Italian Version here: https://loscrittorevolante.com/2021/04/10/poesiapezzi-rotti-kinstugi/
With the pieces that have broken,
I want a new shape,
not the same as before.
A new estimate?
One heart can turn into another,
maybe a tree, with new roots.
With new friends?
Or maybe a new bike.
What do you say?
I’m always wrong, with the ones I care about,
maybe I do it too much.
I haven’t been able to say “now I’ll stop”.
And the more lucidity I recover, the more I understand.
More mature … but I’m sorry
Of having lost,
of having lost you.
I wanted to cultivate a friendship,
be the one who spoils you.
And now hearts are broken,
the balls, the balls.
you offended, I hurt.
I in the throes of crises,
of identity, of life.
You are looking for new faces.
I dream of yours, we are steeped in sadness.
I dream of giving you a hug,
you keep me away, with an icy look.
Maybe it is true that we are so different,
yet you see, I write these lines …
I understand that we had to go slow with you.
Can the broken pieces take on a new form?
Who is gone, then comes back?
A broken relationship can be reassembled differently,
or are they just dreams, of this madman,
feeling like a snake
I’m looking for a solution, to make me think.
Lost the pieces of me, of the past,
of the present.
Which is uncertain, inconsistent,
A feeling pain.
“He who breaks pays and the pieces belong to him”,
they are pieces of me, lost among yours.
Wanting to repair everything, as in the Kinstugi,
whether you stay or flee.