Je ne sais pas...
C'est une phrase brutale

When you date a french woman
You better paint her like they do in her homeland.

"Je t'aime."
She told you.
But you couldn't understand her
So you left and never came back.


"Je t'aime."
She said to him.
This time he understood her.
"Au revoir."*
Because he didn't love her back.

Invocation flowed by divination on the splat of paints,
As the hand move eradically, painting blurr dramatically!
Compelled by the vocal expression, with reinforced connotation.
Singing with such provocative verbalism with moving utterance!
With drop of paint splash of articulation, with inner confession!
Fingers post, flow with curves like storm erupting with Passion!
He can't stop, he will not stop, as ye move relentlessly like erratic feline.
Go forth with his art like a roar of thunder shaking root and foundation!
As he gasps and collapses, to his final demise with the finale!

c'est la vie?
non, non
ce survit

it's not something that i want to gloat about.
i'm not being selfish or greedy.
i'm not doing this because it's a trending topic or i saw other people do it.
i'm doing this because i love.
i love people.
maybe this is happening because i haven't always felt love from others, and i'll just accept what i can get.
maybe it's because i am a rebellion and just want to love him or her regardless of the status quo.
or maybe it's just because i love.
and i love to love.
to make a person smile no matter what is between their legs.
and make them feel wanted.
and happy.
and give them a home in my heart hoping i'll have a shelter to run to in theirs.
i love girls.
i love boys.
but most importantly i love myself.
and as scared as i may be.
and judged.
and discriminated against.
and shunned.
or cursed at.
i will still love.
and i will still stand with my hands in my pockets or in a girl or guys hand.
it may not be a happy life.
and i may not have as many opportunities as the man next to me who has different values.
but i will still love.
i will love my God for i know he accepts me for who i am.
for how he made me to be.
i will love the people who stick with me and tell me that there is no difference between me and the woman that i crossed paths with on the street.
we are all the same.
we are all one.
and we should all love.
regardless.
so this is me saying.
i love.
and i will no longer be ashamed.
even if you belittle me.
and my love will prevail.
because love is the answer.
not arguments between politicians and preachers.
but love.
between a man and a woman.
a man and a man.
a woman and a woman.
and a brother and a sister.
as God made us.
to love.

Je croyais que c’était marrant de voir brûler tes cendres
Je croyais que ça faisait du bien
Tu m’as dis en une étincelle que brûler valait la peine
Mais tu te moquais de moi
Ça ne me faisait pas de peine de te regarder t’éteindre

J’ai su que te sentir en moi me faisait rire
J’ai su que ça me faisait du bien
Tu n’as rien dis, tu t’es laissée brûler
Tu t’en moquais de moi
De ma peine de me sentir m’éteindre

Il était trois fois,
Deux petites araignées,
Qui faisaient la course
À qui tire le plus court fil.
C’était toujours la rouge qui gagnait,
Car son sang coagulé,
Sur le bout de ses pates,
Rendait ses mouvement plus lents.
Elle faisait de toute sa faiblesse,
Couler son âme noire,
Emprisonnée dans son troisième œil,
Afin de rendre son fil plus visqueux.

Son amie, aveugle de ses sept yeux,
Ne voyait que son propre parcours,
Elle n’avait jamais à refaire son tour,
Son chemin étant déjà tracé.
Elle n’avait ni crainte ni peur,
De son adversaire satanée,
Cachée du côté,
Où elle ne pouvait regarder.
Bercée par sa nonchalance,
Elle ne se doutait point,
Qu’elle était le fruit,
Du dessin de son amie.

Il était trois fois,
Une petite araignée
Futur d’un passé oublié
Sur un papier accroché
A la toile de cet instant.