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blue Jun 2015
Don't knock on my door
I don't love you anymore
love breakup
blue May 2015
Le ciel est gris
La pluie s'écoule
Je marche et je marche
Insensible à tout

L'harmonie des bruits routiniers
Doucement fond en arrière-plan
Pour mettre en avant
Mes angoisses si troublantes

Il semblerait
Que ma vie a bousculé de travers
Suis-je tombée de l'autre côté du miroir?

C'est alors que ces pensées
Descendirent vers mon cœur
Qui serra de douleur

Je laissa finalement mes larmes couler
Au rythme de la pluie
Comme mon cœur bat
Au tempo de mes pas
blue May 2015
I'm sorry
That I'm not good with words

But I can play you a rhapsody with all my heart
I can paint you my love in all the colors
I can point you the stars and tell you all the constellations

I'm sorry
That I'm not good with words
Just know that
Even though I never told you:
''I love you''
I do adore you
Every atom of me does
blue May 2015
Breathe,
              they told me.

But how am I supposed to breathe when my lungs are filled with so much hate; my mouth with so many unspoken words?

                                                I *can't
breathe.

Because everytime I do, my heart aches a little more, my eyes fill up with tears that I didn't want to spill anymore.

- Be strong,
                  they said.

The problem is,
                         I can't.
Because nothing in my life makes sense anymore.

I don't know.
                     I don't know.
                                         I don't know.
blue Apr 2015
Growing up hurts.

It's the time when we discover that there are monsters scarier than those who hid under our bed :
                                              humans.

Now, every time I’m in a public place, I am scared.

Scared that there may be a monster in that crowd, one who
                                                  steals,
                                                       rapes,
                                                             murders.

And for a person like me, who liked to think that the world is a beautiful place where everyone is, in the deepest of their hearts, a good person...

                                                      ­*it hurts.
I wrote that after I came back home from a bus ride, where a man decided that it was okay to put his hand on my leg. It is not okay.
blue Nov 2013
Amoncellement de papiers
De travaux à complèter

Accumulation de pensées
À jamais terminer

Mon esprit vagabonde
Dans des réfléxions profondes

Remarques et insultes
Sans cesse, me tumultent

La peur s'installe en moi
Adieu estime de soi

J'espère sans cesse
De combattre cette tristesse

Étendue sur mon lit
Je laisse sortir mes mots par écrit

Esquissant des dessins
Je souhaite pour un meilleur lendemain
blue Nov 2013
Pieds dans le sable
Cheveux dans le vent
Joie véritable
Dans mon cœur battant

Un regard vers toi
Observant la mer
Je  me noie
Dans ton mystère

Si seulement
Tu te retournais
Verrais-tu à ce moment
Que je t'aimais?

Un sourire
En ce beau soir
J'étais prête à partir
Et te chuchota alors

*«Au revoir.»
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