Ti Dirò

The world is burning and drinking to the health of those who are long tired of putting it out. Everything seems loud, beautiful, with glitter and pomp, but beneath it all is just a quiet habit of pretending everything is under control. Every word is like a glass against concrete, every breath is like an attempt not to reveal that inside, it's been boiling for a long time. Love in such a setting is more like a transaction: conversations are reduced to touching, and confessions are an afterthought after sex. I want to be honest, but it's easier to be harsh because sincerity is equated with weakness in this climate. And yet, amidst the noise of engines and glasses, a faint sigh can be heard, like someone who won't admit they just wanted to go home.