Not bilingual

{Learning a new language, a new culture and a new life is adding rather than replacing landmarks. It is confusing and fascinating at the same time. And also maybe, a choice.}


I came here
To not hear
Those words
Depraved and empty
Or too heavy.

They mean nothing
Or they mean too much
They have weighted on my past and my soul and I'm crushed.

I have come here
To escape, to start anew
To learn new sounds, new songs and a new silence.
When you speak the lyrics
Get confused
Sometimes still
And the bliss is to slip on that slope
Of language
Out of my skin
My culture and my sins..

I'm a virgin.

I came here
With not much
Empty hands
Enlarged eyes
Hardened soul
Hopeless mind.

I've left behind
The turmoil of my words
The tumult of my folks
The torment of my past.

I've erased like chalk on black board
A story written in French
With perfect grammar
But disputable storyline.

Day one.