Everything seems to fray, to collapse inside...
I do not know anymore if I want to continue all that I began...
Something broke.
It did for a long time.
But I tried not to see it, I tried to do as if everything could continue normally.
What was I thinking about ?!
There are millions of people more unfortunate than I, I know it.
There are billions of graver things, I also know it.
But is this an excuse not to be affected by what is taking place inside ?
I grew too fast. And since, nothing more.
I do not know if I am on my place.
My heart and my mind are not the same age old.
They do not even belong to the same world.
And your velvet words, your sketched smiles, all your confessions,
being lying between us as torned fragments of a night-sky,
of a star-studded ink sky,
this sky which protected us before,
today it prevents us from forgetting the evil which was made...
The evil which was made to us during our existence.
These scars that will never really disappear,
it is up to us to bandage them, to calm the fire which makes us suffer...
My body is a winter which never ends.
My heart is a faded center,
a foyer where no flame crackles for a long time.
There is still this soul that roam in his world of blackness...
His world in which I tried -wrongly- to make a little sun shine.
But this sun burned him.
Then he ran away, and took refuge,
still sinking more profoundly into his wild forests,
there where he was safe,
sure that I would not go to dazzle him anymore of this hideous sun...
There are billions of graver things, I also know it.
But is this an excuse not to be affected by what is taking place inside ?
I grew too fast. And since, nothing more.
I do not know if I am on my place.
My heart and my mind are not the same age old.
They do not even belong to the same world.
And your velvet words, your sketched smiles, all your confessions,
being lying between us as torned fragments of a night-sky,
of a star-studded ink sky,
this sky which protected us before,
today it prevents us from forgetting the evil which was made...
The evil which was made to us during our existence.
These scars that will never really disappear,
it is up to us to bandage them, to calm the fire which makes us suffer...
My body is a winter which never ends.
My heart is a faded center,
a foyer where no flame crackles for a long time.
There is still this soul that roam in his world of blackness...
His world in which I tried -wrongly- to make a little sun shine.
But this sun burned him.
Then he ran away, and took refuge,
still sinking more profoundly into his wild forests,
there where he was safe,
sure that I would not go to dazzle him anymore of this hideous sun...
Mon dieu, mais qu'ai-je fait...?