This is the English transtlation of this poety: https://loscrittorevolante.com/2021/05/16/poesiasegreti/
Sometimes we keep secrets,
we do it for us sometimes
not everything we think can be shared,
sometimes we think how this thing can be divided.
sometimes we do it to stay safe,
sometimes so as not to stand still and stare at a wall,
sometimes we are afraid that certain things will be discovered,
like ours under the covers,
skeletons in the closet,
like feeling panic in the deserted streets.
Sometimes this is how we feel when cornered.
Fear of our demons,
that come to life when we feel weak.
It happens too often,
come out, no matter how hard you try to hide it,
the secrets that destroy even the least guilty.
Like the less easy loves,
but no less pleasant for this.
Always better to overcome difficulties,
than to be compliant.
Sometimes we think that the secrets,
maybe we try to protect us,
but we’re not that smart,
everything sooner or later comes to light,
then you try to return to the darkness,
that tempts and seduces.
Then you become like a vampire,
and it’s like stopping the breath,
secrets should be drunk, like wine,
the hope of a love,
give me a little kiss,
as if you weren’t mean,
now that the secrets, make things far away,
as in the end, a dot,
and I, I think I’m getting closer,