Im a bird learning to fly. Im hurting. I keep singing. Im sensitive. And I never felt so desperate. Im coming back home. I was teached to survive. In the most different situations. I hurted people. In a survival mode you are teached to be selfish. You change everyday, in order to keep alive. Almost as part of nature. Im chaotic. Not in a bad way. Im just learning to be the best version of myself. Its a daily process of dying and beeing born again. Im scared of beeing alone. Im scared to not have a home, to not have anyone. I keep smiling just as everything is fine. In another culture that somehow is mine. In another language that someone took from me. Im hurting so much. I dont know how to build a structure of solid things. I had to forget so much to be where I am. To fight silently. To break barriers. To fly the Atlantic. Everyday was a new person inside of my head. Everyday was a feeling of dying in the streets. Of falling. Of failing. People think im sweet. But Im strong. I keep surviving. Day after day. Trying to believe everyday that im strong. I repeat it to myself. I embrace my loss of hearing. Now im doubting in my music. Im not sure about love. Im not sure about love. I feel dependent. I miss my dad. I miss a home. I miss someone giving me a home that I can trust. I was kicked out so much. I was violented so much. I had to sign things. I had to say things in court when I was only a child. People still think Im sweet.