Sometimes I tell people I am going to light a candle for them and then I forget, but I am hoping that because I said it, wrote it, drew it in my mind, it will still warm them up.
Des constellations brillantes et mouvementées dans les airs traversent mes os et ma résistance. Rapidly through my heart flashes an epiphany, and another one, and another one. Thank god, I thought I was bored. Nothing better than those hard strikes of adrenaline rushing under my skin. The fingers rapidly dance over my soul, extracting its juice as I will comprehend its taste later. I choose to trust and not to look back. I get afraid that if I stop for a second I might loose the breath, the inspiration, hold. They brush my neck as I learn to do different, as I torn the pouch away and recollect the empty glasses. Ghosts of plants – just because I got scared to write spirits initiate me in other practices. It seems like they left my house but left the door open.
I catch my breath again, the trail blazing through my uncounscious conscience. I wouldn’t want to disappoint. You see there is still a great amount of unlearning to do.
I will wake up one day and the touches won’t be so new, uncomfortable because of how unfamiliar I am to them. As well as they need oil from time and impact. For now, I prefer the broken ones, but I need to let them go. I tell myself i need to go through the end. Everytime. I mostly allow myself to sit down in hopes that I will make it until the end. I must be making mistakes I can’t even read and I don’t even know why I want to cry – you must feel so uninvited now. And I lit a candle for you.
Sometimes I tell people I am going to light a candle for them and then I forget, but I am hoping that because I said it, wrote it, drew it in my mind, it will still warm them up.