Inside my head

I spend my life inside my head repainting silences in midnight blue, stretching sheets of stars over my abysses.

I spend my life inside my head where disappointed words build cathedrals, where every sigh carves its name into stone.

I spend my life inside my head stroking faces I never touched, reinventing the gestures that never happened.

I spend my life inside my head the way one lives in a flooded house, opening the windows onto imagined moons.

I spend my life inside my head because here, nothing fully dies, and even goodbyes can be read again.

I spend my life inside my head and sometimes, the world breaks in, but I close it gently, without a sound.