?

Qu'est-ce qui nous pousse à vouloir s'imprégner dans la mémoire de l'autre ?

Ce que je t'ai déjà lu ...

Mille jeux de mots
Maux sad
Dissimuler l'engoisse du néant
Néanmoins
Moins que rien
Au monde,
Se trouver seul
Seulement pour un soir
Un soir de déboire
Boire ses histoires
Histoire d'espoir
Oh!Non je ne suis pas au désespoir
Il y a seulement que parfois...
Ici, il fait un peu trop noir.

Pour ma Laura, celle que je vois

Un jeu de L'ego prêt à assembler,
ou un dessin à colorier.
Emballée par tout ce qui est d'emblée
                                                       à corriger
Tu nous laisse deviner
Sacrée timidité!
Du bout des lèvres,
on aurait presqu'envie de t'embrasser


Ma Laura
Oh jolie Laura!
Laisse toi aimer,
Laisse toi t'aimer,
Laisse moi t'aimer,


Laisse toi aller !

The Verbs of my Innocence

He said he would / I say I am

We run in every ways

You play / I loose

The verbs of my innocence are talking against me

My age is a cage

You draw me with your eyes closed

It turns out I don't recongnize my face anymore

I believe / you deceive

I grow old

...................................................................................................still hoping for freedom

A child memory

~~~

All I can remember is that they were yelling at each other, once again. I was almost seven years old and I can still hear them as if it were yesterday. They were standing in front of each other. Their faces were red and contorted with anger. Mom had her mascara running down her cheeks and dad couldn’t stop pointing his finger at her. The three of us were in my bedroom. This little room that we decorated together a few months before, with its walls painted lilac and giant stickers of Cinderella everywhere, was now their battle field. They were now killing what was left of themselves with the few words that could express all the disappointments they had towards this disillusioned relationship. At this moment, I was standing between them. They seemed to be so tall but so empty and ugly. I’ve always been the reason of their dysfunction, but still, the only reason to keep the pace of this relationship. Suddenly, dad seemed to be out of control. Maybe he couldn’t contain his rage anymore. He started dancing everywhere in my room and everything that’s surrounded him was flying though the air making a violent music. Then he took mom to make her dance with him. She seemed soft and fragile, like a puppet, but her eyes were so big and looked terrorised. He was dancing again and again, but she wasn’t. They weren’t my parents anymore; they were just two sad ghosts dancing in a child’s room.

~~~

The other life

I have said to you a thousand lies
and looked at you a thousand times
I made love to you so many times
and you kissed my neck so many more

There is a life you live,
whitout knowing it
There is a life you live,
where  day doesn't exist

Come and lie beside me
I'll tell you about the time we spent
Together,
while you were gone

. L ' e f f o r t . d ' e x i s t e R .

...

J'e r r e
Avec pour seul repère:
Mon sillage éphémère
Laissé au travers de tes pages

Mon reflet; ta mémoire
Brulée de ton Histoire
Qui n'a pour espoir,
Que ce qui n'est pas encore.

À t'offrir, je n'ai pour ma part,
Rien de plus que l'effort
L'effort d'exister

À travers chaque pas, chaque geste,
Chaque cri, chaque pleure et chaque rire
Je m'enchaîne et tu te livres
Je t'écris et tu me lis

Dans la constance du poids de l'être
La force qu'il faut pour incarner
L'auteur et l'acteur.


...