I miss myself, the one who stood at the edge of the world
with the sun falling into empty palms,
I miss my breath,
the one that was not afraid of silence.

I got lost in a room full of mirrors,
but none of them know my face.
I burned myself with questions
that I threw into the darkness,
but they never came back.

If I could gather all my pieces,
I’d build a ship to sail through time.
But what’s the point of a journey,
when the waves always carry me in circles?

Maybe, one day, I'll find myself
in a crumpled photograph,
in a laughter, I have forgotten,
or in a corner of the sky
I never dared to look at it.

Until then,
I’ll keep moving forward,
a shadow trying to come back to life.