Confondre Speranza
The title is Italian for "Confusing Hope,"

For someone. Myself. For anyone who is lost. For hope.

There is something living inside of me.

It is growing stronger every day and it wants to escape.

It is on fire, it is melting, it is burning, it is pinching, and it is killing.

There is something alive in me, creeping and crawling, inside.

I am afraid of it, it will kill me from the inside, out.

It will destroy eat at me, and feed on me, it is a parasite.

An abomination, a twist of fate, not meant to happen.

Above a thread of hope

Something is inside of me, it is taking over and I can not stop it.

It will strive and kick and squeal until I let it free.

It is only a child, it is young and restless, and it is killing.

It is an outrage, and I want to shove it a little black box and ship it out to sea.

It is young, this thing inside of me, and I do not know what it is.

Black and twisting, corrupt and evil, it is silently urging me away.

Sopra un filo di speranza

It pulls me under water and I am alone.

Something is inside of me, and it will not part with me.

One step forward, two steps back, it is pulling me in, this thing.

Midnight toxic, surrounding me, and engulfing my well-being.

I have been examined, I have been prodded and poked.

It is indefinable they say, an alienation of another land.

It is destroying me and killing me.

I am dizzy, I am gone, and we are together, this darkness and I.

This darkness and I are thriving as one, merging together.

It is tearing me apart, it is keeping me from being myself.

It is hurting me. This scandal.

There is something alive in me, something that has been kicked aflame.

Something is thriving inside of me, something bleak and unheard of.

There is a monstrous hole where my reason should be, this thing has eaten it.

I am not a self anymore, I am nothing. This blackness has done its job.

It is still growing, taking over.

Speranza

I am fighting this thing.

This living abomination, this torturer.

It is still inside me, and I can name it now.

Confusion is black and dark and destroying me.

It is only a child, young and restless, fighting.

Confusion is eating me alive and I cannot take it.

A thread of hope reaches up and down my spine.

Pulling me up straight to stand tall.

And I yank on this string, this life line, reaching up, helping me.

Maybe I am not lost.