Someone tells me
that surprises me,
that it is not only death
the one that always follows me everywhere.

I am alive, and I always will be
until the last second,
full of love, full of passion,
with the only curse
of always being the strange one,
the one outside,
the foreigner,
even in my own country…

How could you understand me
without knowing me?
How could I love you
without knowing you?
Me: a woman.
The other: an artist.

My soul always alone,
touched by colors,
faces and feelings of people
that I don’t even know:
Angels, Saints, Women, Skeletons
and images of myself,
and again,
to see if I finally discover
what material am I made of
and why I am a feeling machine!!!