By Mary Lou (Marilù Ciabattoni)

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A life, 
imaginary. 
Days, 
blurred dreams 
piercing reality. 
And nobody, 
nobody 
looked for me. 
Nobody, 
not even myself. 
Regretting the choice 
of not having lived 
enough; 
regretting the curse 
of being different. 
Fireworks 
living a second, 
buried in the sky, 
a graveyard 
of dead stars 
and broken dreams. 
 
Living a life, 
imaginary. 
Spending my days 
dreaming, 
and forever 
blue 
and solitaire. 

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