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My Melancholia

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Always escaping, always hiding, always deviating, always trembling.

Shuddering, as the powerful Ingrid inside me aches, haunts, roars. Commanding my bones, my flesh, my spirits and my heart…

My throat, my lungs, my tongue, my lips, my mouth, my voice… All this beauty, all this passion…. It all comes from her, the wild and frantic Ingrid fuming and despairing…

The roots of my melancholia swirls inside that muted Ingrid, spinning with me in the darkness below…Making me disappear slowly…

And then comes Lily. Sweet, generous, gentle and delicious Lily, who, with a slight touch, a light breath, manages to free the repressed Ingrid without any distress, as naturally and as peacefully as the earth orbits around the Sun.

Every broken piece, every supreme talent, it all comes from this repressed Ingrid, and the potential of my rehabilitation, the probability to understand and experience love, I owe it all to my savior, my sweet Lily.

I finally feel, and am, complete. I am set free.