-
de la fumée
de la lumière
je crois
je ne sais pas
des larmes
derrière mes lunettes
dans la rue
du bonheur
de la peur
je ne sais pas
ce fauteuil
ces escaliers
ai-je fermé cette porte pour la dernière fois
j'espère
je ne sais pas
-
j’écoute ce que notre histoire me dit
dans le souffle de l’ennui
dans un silence comme un duvet
un mur contre la vie
nos nuits qui succèdent à des nuits
l'eau chaude qui m'apaise
nos corps couverts de nos corps
l'air frais qui me fait taire
nos mains vides si ce n’est de nous-mêmes
-
écrit pour le jeu vidéo Antoine
S’uniront les planètes, alors il sera là
L’étoile, le berger, l’union de nos vertus
La réponse à nos maux, signe tant attendu
L’inestimable enfant, la clé de l’au-delà
Attendant calmement, patients depuis longtemps
Si longue l’attente, depuis notre genèse
L’an de grâce, mille sept-cent soixante seize
Enfin l’élu trouvé, alors il sera temps
Terrible destinée, que ne devons-nous faire
Un jour d’alignement, commettre l’indicible
Pour que nous accepte, le triangle invisible
D’une lame pointue, infliger le calvaire
De notre saint martyr, offert le sang versé,
La porte s’ouvrira, pour nous la traverser.
-
Il fut un océan fait d’or et de diamants,
Un sanctuaire serein et perdu dans l’asphalte
Où il était bon pour un repos d’y faire halte.
Il fut un océan ; marécage de sang.
Des cornes et des sabots sur le sol martelant.
Des yeux pleins d’Enfer, souillures dans ce cobalt.
Son corps est de granit, de pierre et de basalte.
Tandis qu’il beugle, il fait trembler le firmament.
Il court, il piétine, il fracasse, et il détruit ;
Il agresse sans pitié l’innocent rêveur ;
Il fuit et laisse un corps qui n’est plus que débris.
Sur son passage est né le règne de la peur,
Tout s’est effondré une fois qu’il fut parti,
Et tout n’est plus que ruines, tout est englouti.
-
le ciel s'assombrit
lacs et rivières s'assèchent
les pétales tombent
-
la voilà enfin
sa douce brise m’enchante
la fin de l’été
-
le renard se cache
dans le grand buisson fleuri
il se rafraichit
-
ta main et la mienne
telle la graine et le sol
se sont rencontrées
-
la grenouille saute
dans l’eau fraiche de l’automne
ça fait un grand plouf
-
notre amour est né
une vague qui déferle
sur les feuilles mortes
-
do you remember
we were 20 years old
i was in the sofa reading poetry
you were on the ground solving equations
sometimes, to better think i think, you would put your head on my legs
i never knew what time it was
i couldn’t bother to open the windows
i never knew what day it was
i couldn’t realise how long it had been since i’d met you
if we were hungry, we would make a pie together
even after so many times, you would always tell me what to do
i know how to chop a fucking tomato, thank u
i make the best pies today, the best desserts too
i have a stand mixer, a brand new oven and all the utensils
i made my own crepe cake for my birthday
would you like to taste it, asshole
my boyfriend loved it
do you remember
i was 20 years old
i was afraid of everything
i had no clue
no clue i was so sad
no clue what happy was
what an idiot i was
to be with you
i was afraid of everything
did you help with that, honey?
do you remember
you were 20 years old
you had it all figured out, didn’t u
especially me, so figured out
you told me who i was and what i was supposed to be
according to you, i’d never be happy
you made me believe i was nothing
and that you knew anything about making an entree
thing is, babe, olive cakes are better with milk
u made me eat that shit
do you remember
when i was 20 years old
the things you said
the things you made me believe
that it was all my fault
that it was me
who hurt you
you told me i was a narcissist
well, guess what, i’m actually depressed
i have an anxiety disorder
and abysmally low self-esteem
isn’t it funny how wrong you were?
but i’m fine now
i’m taking my pills
i know how to make meringues
not thanks to you
do you remember
what it’s like to be 20 years old
do you remember me
what you did to me
do you remember
when i made you those pancakes
and you didn’t eat them
you piece of shit
i barely remember you, and that awful lasagna
i was only 20 years old
(…)
i’m 28 now
i still read poetry
i make my own recipes
i spend so much time in the sofa, or at the desk
writing without you watching me
the more i write the less you can hurt me
et plus j'écris, moins ton souvenir me hante
-
you see
that part of me
i’m afraid of
and that pushes me
away always
and you
as well
you see that part of me i’m afraid of and that pushes me away always and you as well
is now gone
-
we spent the day inside
again
the light outside
is bright
i don’t wanna close the curtains
yet
i don’t wanna feel sad
at night
-
i’m in shorts in the sofa, playing
you’re in shorts at the table, working
light through the window is right over me
i’m hot
i’ve been sweating all day
so hot
i can see your bright forehead
so so hot
all i can think of is that sparkling water
that we’re out of
and that cold shower
i’ll take tonight
or tomorrow
-
there’s tofu frying
in the pan
while i cut a zucchini,
you pour lemonade
tofu’s frying in the pan
it smells of wasted spring
and dead houseplants
soy sauce
overwhelms us
-
i’m drinking coffee and listening to the radio
it’s another morning of another week
wondering how much time i’ll still be waiting
for this feeling to go away
for that pain in my chest to disappear
to be explained
that fear of that pain
that causes
that pain that i dread
-
here again
reading poetry
trying to write poetry
playing bloodborne
reading the fucking news
wondering if i should go outside
to write poetry
-
light through the window
i’ve got spring in memory
the ficus is dying
shadows in the living room
vicarious spring of two
my pilea has grown so much
my monstera has grown a lot too
my hair is so long, as well