Growing up as an underdog means

living my whole life dancing between

creating something worthy living for

and destroying what used to make it that beautiful.

So I chose to follow the rhythm,

I chose to depend on the beauty of its end –

I swung the pain away learning to dance out of time but knowing the whole choreography:

I put my fancy shoes on and performed my sadness away,

no tears were allowed on the dancefloor.

I thought “People like us are scared of happiness”,

because we know exactly what it’s like to lose the melody that turns the cardiac muscle on,

we surely know what it’s like to forget the beats of the drums.

I fell, I rose and I died

like a precious hexachord of random notes, like a beautiful set of chaotic truths;

How I wish a DJ really saved my life last night,

how I wish his choices would have released me from my curse

but he only taught me that no tears were allowed on his dancefloor.

A day you’ll wake up and learn that the party is over and all your lovers are finally sober.

A poem by Stefano Riva