Elle coule comme l'eau

Elle coule comme l'eau

Si calme,

Avec tant de charme,

Entre les murs de pierre

Elle coule et elle court

Avec un sourire de coquine,

Glissant entre frontières,

Entre les barbelés

Elle coule comme l'eau

Et personne ne la connaît,

Elle n'est qu'une gamine,

Cherchant un foyer

Elle coule et elle court

Des mains qui aime la torture,

Si lisse, si calme,

Il faut des ruptures.

Elle court et elle court,

Elle saute et elle coule,

En bleu et blanc,

Mais teintée en rouge ;

L'homme a créé des frontières pour tous,

Cette fille ne les connaît pas du tout,

Elle ne sait que la barbarie des bombes,

Et les mains déchirant sa famille ;

Elle ne rêve que d'échapper,

La prison d'une telle nationalité,

Et d'un avenir de paix,

Et donc elle coule -

Comme l'eau, comme une vague,

Vers la liberté, égalité et fraternité.

the bleeding

There is a wrench in me

Twisting and turning every gear

It hurts I scream

Each word falls like blood

On a piece of stray paper

There is a wrench in me

Working out every knot

And everytime I bleed

Your name comes out

It hurts I scream

The drops falls as blood

As bood is wont to fall

Oh this wrench in me

Grappling my soul from some core

I bleed and bleed

On the paper on the floor

Your name your name

Oh your name repeats endlessly

How long before the wounds heal

Am I to face an endless fear

Shame myself for what I endure

Harm myself as have all your deeds

Unveil all my tangles, fall dead, sleep

Fall dead and may be even then

Be haunted by those nights

Of touch that I never asked for

That I was too scared to protest

That I hope and pray no other girl

Goes through the pain of . This.

Oh but they do they do they do

And they die too.

Untitled #25 - people pleaser

From where does this come,

This intense self pressure to please?

To please every other person,

Who means well or just comes my way -

Why so much pressure to please?

Is it because I am human?

Or because I am female?

Or because both -

And my bones are supposed to 

Be flexible to needs,

Whether it is to push out another,

Or to let others push it in -

And my muscles are supposed to

Contract and relax as per

"What they say"

And I follow it, I believe it -

But why do I listen to it!

Is this my state of immanence?

Is this the only choice that

I know to choose?

Must I let my years of training

Of listening, of fearing failure,

Of fearing greatness,

Of unspoken obedience and 

Of unheard tantrums, dictate -

Must I let myself cry and pity (myself?)

Because I feel trapped in questions

That I am too scared to answer -

Because everyone "means well",

They come my way and "mean well",

And I am so trained to listen.

To obey.

To bend.

To break.

To fill all cracks with gold.

And now I do not know.

Who I am (¿am I?) anymore.

Untitled #24 - maybe

I wish things were less messy in my head
That I could sort out the safe, unsafe,
Good, bad, demons, angels, dark and dark,
Then let you in, slowly, show you what it is,
And at least give you a chance to maybe.
Maybe you'll understand.

Instead of like now, where I just push you away,
Where any male touch seems unsafe,
Where any external stimulus seems bad,
Everything looks like a demon in disguise,
And I can't see past a wall of tears, it's dark.
Very dark.

I wish I could tell you where it hurts,
I wish I could let you in but fear stops me,
I stop me.

What if I tell you and you leave?
What if I tell you and you decide I'm not worth it?
What if it's all true?

What they say about me and you,
That we shouldn't be,
That I'm toxic.

But I love you every single day even when it hurts,
But I know even love can be toxic if it's not right.
But I never had to question if I love you,
But I wonder if I let you love me because I,
I feel incapable of being loved.
Maybe you'll understand.

Untitled #23 - commitment

2 years in a run away circus
I've no else to blame but me
Commitment is a ring I've yet to jump
Love or not, it doesn't seem to be free-
-ing
-dom
-ly set up between 2 parties
Who've given everything else
But a paper of societal acceptance
As though their love and consent is not
Enough.

Untitled #22 - ptsd

I wish we'd met when we were younger
And not now, when we're bloody and scarred
You will say it was meant to be
But how I wish it was not

Now I don't know if I'm awake or asleep
Firing my guns at enemies I couldn't see
The bloodstains on you, is it from me?
Is it from you, my guts dragged out on the scene?

I wish we'd met when we were younger
We might still have figured it out
There was a chance at being perfect, beautiful
And not so perfectly, thoroughly marked.

Untitled #21 - romantic

How we poets romanticize the days past,
And how we romanticize the pain of now,
As though we have known so fleetingly of happiness
That the very word breathes fresh life in,
A proof that we know little else
Other than the darkness under our skins.

Untitled #20 - warfare

Words come out unintended
A flash of unfeeling feeling,
The damage it caused in a night
A space gone hollow on the bedside.

Words come out unintended
An act of love turned down,
The affection it sought to give
Was not the one it brought on.

Words came out unintended
A bed turned into a warzone,
No other space in an otherwise empty house
For two warriors to lay their guns down.

Words came out unintended
No sniper could make such clean shots,
Silhouettes in an eerie darkness
So close, misunderstood, and let down.

Untitled #19 - Musings

'A new year, a new start'
That's what everyone thinks,
But with the second year almost up
I'm grateful we've stayed.

I'm grateful for your existence
And how you're the thunder to my storm,
I'm comforted with the thought
At the end of the day, you'd be home.

It's funny how you're still persistent
About tucking me into your armpit
(That too without a bath after baDminTon)
And how my olfactory senses don't care;

I'm amazed we're still a "cuddly-sleepy" couple
And that you're still my muse and flare,
And with every birthday of yours that passes by
I hope we're only reminded of growing love;

Because right now, alone on our bed,
My eyes miss the outline of your figure in bed,
My ears miss the sound of your laugh,
My skin misses the scratch-scratch of your body,
My arms miss holding you and my leg misses yours
(She likes being on top)

And the whole bed, the room,
The entire apartment -
They all seem so empty;
It's no longer home without you.

A birthday dedication to someone special.

Untitled #18 - Distance

How can it be that the very thing which created us
Would be the very thing to tear us apart?

Distance.

Such a strong word whose strength is never known
Till it is lying next to you on the bed
Which you wish now that you'd never known.

Distance.

A reminder of the trains that come and go,
Stations and stations but there is always
A start and an end.

Distance.

It was fond when we were not together all the time.
When it is hard to get something, this person,
It makes it such a sweet, strong word.

You never realise the malice it carries
Till it becomes your bedfellow,
Till your partner becomes it in every way,
And even you, you diffuse at his touch and spread,
In every way, all away from him.

Distance.

The child we gave birth to unknowingly.
The one we let live while the others starved.
Where are all the little things?
How do you I get you back?
I'm so scared of this distance that I cannot measure
In millimeters or light years,
All I know is I can't reach you.
Give me love.

Distance.

I've become a broken record playing a fake Ed Sheeran.

Give a little time to me or burn this out,
I'm tired of this hide and seek,
There is no turning it around,
But all I want
Is the taste of your lips on mine,
My my, my my, my...
Oh give me love.

Untitled #17 - Drunken shame

Love,
Let me strip that one article of color from me,
You will see all gray and never question me -
The color choices or my state of mind,
My feelings of wanting to lash out
And wanting to be confined;

Can you ever lock me away in a room?
Where I'm helpless and nothing,
Just your tool?
Your toy to use and only be used,
A being knowing nothing
But your pleasure well due ;

Or could you throw yourself at my mercy?
Where I'll exploit you to my will,
I'll hurt you like it hurts me,
My memories and my will,
I'll show you how pain can't be pleasure
But is pleasure all the same -

And you'll forever submit to me,
Be my slave.
Because only in this drunken state
Do we know no shame.

Untitled #16 - morning

I'm sorry if this is creepy
But you look adorable when you're sleeping,
And maybe I'm being stalker-y
But you have a mole on your nose
That looks like a pimple needing popping,
And you have such long, dark lashes
And your eyebrows are so shapely,
But it sets off my OCD cause one hair is curly
Yet I don't want to disturb your sleeping face
So I let the curly brow be,
Then you have such a tiny nose and ears
But your face is so HUGE,
So are your shoulders (ooh la la)
Hence they're such good pillows
Though they're kinda hairy like your face,
Your beard gives me an OCD too
I keep feeling like scratching it
But I don't want to disturb your sleeping face,
Especially not when you're twitching in your sleep
And your lips are in half smiles
They look (and are) so kissable -
Kiss me good morning, boo.

(A dedication)

Untitled #15 - knowing

I wish I was there with you
But I'm drifting so far away
Lying right next to you
Distance means so little
I could be crying an ocean
You'd never know.

I wish I was there with you
With the old movies and cheap jokes
Your laughter echoes from afar
Distance means so little
I could be struggling to breathe
You'd never know.

I'm here with you
Separated by a wall of silence
Lying on the same bed
Could we be any further
You could be dying, living,
Finding something worth discovering;

I'd never know.

Untitled #14

This is from the place that I hold inside,
The place that I try to hide,
That place that freaks my mind,
It's from the place where I try to die _

Right beneath my skin,
An ocean is bubbling, boiling,
Questioning an empty life, my sins,
Is it all in vain, this toiling?

This Lack that I hold inside,
The emptiness I try to hide,
The aches that scar my mind,
This feeling that I must die _

Right beneath my skin
Are my truths turned to lies,
Voices screaming in my mind,
"No good", my uselessness amplified -

For me to see what I've become,
A stranger I refuse to love,
With blank eyes, a loud mind,
An empty heart _

If only I could not see
This depth of emptiness
Staring back at me.

Untitled #13 - ravings

Et vois, le début de la fin,
Où la poésie est qu'une tricherie
De mes espoirs inassouvis.

On a fait toujours
Les petites bêtises,
Étant si honnête -
C'était notre maladie.

Or on se brûle d'un fort amour,
Si vite que la cendre qui suit
Ne peut que dire: <<Fini>>.

Untitled #12 - pop quiz

It's like a pop quiz
That comes out of nowhere,
Hits you in face with questions
That you can't bear to answer.

Time starts now.

1. Will he stay?
Yes, he might.
But only till he tires of me,
Till he realises my baggage
Will not be left behind,
That I must carry all my memories
Everywhere I go,
That I hurt
Intentionally
Everyone I know.

2. Does he love you?
Yes, he might.
Because he looks at me with love in his eyes,
But that vanishes with my distance,
And behind my back
It trails everywhere looking for other sights,
And I want to care but I can't,
Because what right do I have to demand
For a love that I should never have.

3. Does happiness lie in a diamond ring?
Yes, it might.
People look so happy in all those pictures
They post in social media, it's all happy,
It looks so real you can touch it,
But photos only capture a moment
And there would be so much pain
That you photograph in your mind
To blame yourself and cry
Every night to sleep.

Time is up.

The results are out and they said I failed,
My pop quiz asked specifics always known,
And I knew nothing.
Which has always been, the case.

Untitled #11

A good bird in a gold cage
Might sing you songs ahead of his age,
Let him out and you'll only find silence
Because his songs were only those of violence,
And freedom is a song more felt than heard
For the ones singing, than the ones trapping the bird.

Untitled #10 - insomniac

Sleep is a cruel bedfellow,
Especially when it's just one in bed,
It seems she likes a threesome,
Much more than a couple's nest.

4 o' clock in the morning
With no Sandman at hand,
It seems like the hours mean nothing,
Except to just count down till we land;

It's just a few hundred miles,
But feels like it's a continent away,
I wish I had never got used to your lullaby,
The gentle purring of your chest,

I wish we never knew what sharing could bring,
And what a new family could mean,
I wish I never knew that my insomnia could peak -
Sleep was never my bedfellow.

Sleep was never my bedfellow!
Even with you by my side,
Sleep was our child lying between us,
She is only one who envisioned,
Who saw you next to I.

Untitled #9

The conflict never ends
There is never any chance to mend
Every turn is just as dark
Another shade of grey,
They all look the same.

Cannot fit in a box
Cannot fit in a space this small
Cannot fit in your glass walls
Your hypocrisy thickly veiled behind pretty words
You never see my blade.

"Coming home" is never what it means
Death and decay is all that I've seen
In there where "home" is nothing
But 5 strangers in a room
My knife looks big to you
But it can never cut me as deep as you.