Once you finally put that word out of your dry lips, there's no going back
It seems to be coming out of the blue, but the truth is
That you have been looking for it, desperately, since your birth –
Last piece of the puzzle.

Relish it, observe each sound, each signification, each resonance
Close your eyes – inhale, exhale, realization –
And finally, become yourself – shock and then acceptance
Identity – what a funny thing, isn't it?

It makes me feel complete
Release and inevitable curse at the same time
Or maybe just another empty word who won't get me anywhere
I just know it's me.

Ghost.

12.11.24

(les tirets c'est hyper inspiré d'Emily Dickinson – allez lire ses poèmes d'ailleurs (l'édition bilingue sinon on pige rien, c'est de l'ancien anglais), ils sont magnifiques !)