L'Étranger par Charles Baudelaire

''-Qui aimes-tu le mieux, homme énigmatique, dis ?
ton père, ta mère, ta soeur ou ton frère ?
- Je n'ai ni père, ni mère, ni soeur, ni frère.
- Tes amis ?
- Vous vous servez là d'une parole dont le sens m'est
resté jusqu'à ce jour inconnu.
- Ta patrie ?
- J'ignore sous quelle latitude elle est située.
- La beauté ?
- Je l'aimerais volontiers, déesse et immortelle.
- L'or ?
- Je le hais comme vous haïssez Dieu.
- Eh ! qu'aimes-tu donc, extraordinaire étranger ?
- J'aime les nuages... les nuages qui passent... là-bas...
là-bas... les merveilleux nuages !''

This one is for him

''This is Winter coming to an end,
many strong winds have flown
coldness turn into life then
and some flowers may be born.

This is the season of cheerfulness
the season of women meeting men
and what a wonderful explosion of joyfulness
when some become more than friends.

These flowers emerge
so love does
and it is on the verge
of being the only one.''

Love you, honey <3

The Song of Both

I found I like writing when I feel sad or inspired. Even though my writing is not that good, I like to write things just for myself, I don't expect you to understand me. I've started to write a story in a notebook of mine and maybe it's bullshit but it's how I express myself. It is a way of being, of existing. I think I'm starting to interact with my self, not the word myself as a physic person but the self, my I deep inside. All I've been saving from I was a little child is starting to go out, fortunately not in a rude way but through words, through writing. It doesn't matter in which language because the point is that I can communicate with my self and explore what I'm feeling or what I've felt before and have a better knowledge of me.
These are some verses I've written tonight, don't ask why. I feel like writing so here they are! And once again, I don't expect you to understand or to judge whether they're good or not, that's just because I want to write anything :) Peace! xx

''Many dreams we used to have
which are finally gone
with a blowing wind high above
it gets the path undone.
I could not find your hand
and get lost in the dark
standing alone.

Don't let me here!
were the words shouted
but oh, my dear!
words must be empty
'cause I couldn't hear
the song of both.''