• Il m'a prise dans ses bras et puis à bout de mains il m'a chuchoté dans l'oreille je suis venu te dire que je ne t'aime plus

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  • "let me tell you something:

    no one is going to look at you, broken and shattered

    and think -

    damn, you are beautiful.

    no one is going to come pick up your broken pieces off the floor and

    assemble them into a beautiful whole.


    you won’t even look at yourself and think -

    I made broken look beautiful.

    you know why?

    because all those writers lied to you.


    all those with their poems of scraped knuckles and

    blood dripping down chins,

    pomegranate songs and loves that ripped through you like



    so you and i,

    we are going to make a plan.

    you are not going to romanticize days when your brain tells you to smash that mirror,

    you are not going to romanticize the lover who doesn’t understand you

    but still writes about you.

    here is what you are going to romanticize instead:

    you are going to romanticize the first day of spring,

    its gentle hands all over your body,

    lifting you up until you are as light as a feather.

    you are going to romanticize the tea and honey kind of love,

    no hurricanes,

    but sunshine that builds you up from within,

    that helps you make it through the worst days.

    you are going to romanticize gentle hands of a friend

    in yours,

    telling you that it is going to be okay.

    because it is.

    and don’t trust poets,

    we’re no good,

    we love pretending that our jagged edges tantamount to a beautiful disaster, but in reality -

    there ain’t nothing beautiful about shaky hands holding a cigarette and

    empty eyes staring at the cracks in the walls.

    you know what is beautiful, instead?

    the days when you can look at yourself in the mirror and smile,

    scars and all.

    music that makes your soul flow like a river,

    books that offer comfort,

    families flocking together like overgrown birds to keep you safe and warm,

    friends that give you strength when you can find none,

    lovers who make you laugh through tears.


    from now on

    you are going to romanticize healing;

    honey dripping down your fingertips,

    August nights that stick to your skin,

    the day you find your purpose,

    long car rides and singing so loud that no one can shut you up now.

    bad news:

    no one is coming to save you.

    good news:

    you can save yourself."


    Lana Rafaela

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  • Let's walk by your side

    nothing but our words should touch

    please, don't press my shoulder between your thumbs

    i'm too numb i'm feeling so numb

    and my body feels like a smoke

    like a cloud like something iced and cold

    pierced to the heart


    Let's walk by your side

    nothing in common but words that shatter

    but words that matter, words that shutter the world

    the world who crumbles and cracks open and even my fingers feel numb


    Let's walk by your side

    walk and walk until the sun shines again

    until the storm let me breathe

    until my lungs wake up and i can start living again


    Let's walk by my side

    let's start leaving the pain

    leaving the pain

    walking on the hands of the sun without feeling my heart burning inside


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  • "Il y a les auteurs qui écrivent avec de la lumière, d’autres avec du sang, avec de la lave,
    avec du feu, avec de la terre, avec de la boue, avec de la poudre de diamant
    et enfin ceux qui écrivent avec de l’encre, les malheureux,

    avec de l’encre tout simplement."

    Pierre Reverdy


    Thomas Jackson

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