L'amour est la haine

Désolée, encore un texte bien noir, que j'ai écris peu de temps après avoir quitter mon ex... (ça date quoi!) Je l'ai écris en Anglais parce que je trouvais que ça avait plus de poids...  Mais bon je suis gentille,  je mettrais une traduction plus tard quand j'en aurrais le courag^^ Bonne lecture... Hé, non, au fait... Je suis pas folle, ni suicidaire! :-D

Just look... Look what you did with me. Just meditate your work.
I'm a juping jack disorientated. Used to live at the addiction of your merest whims.
There, I'm annihilated, disabling to really laugth. All is just an aspect. From now on, I'm just a fictitious being, a peaked ghost without any glint...
You destroyed me, botched me, riped me off, manipulated me.
I'm nothing, the total nothingness.

Never, never I could be able to live without the fear to be used again.
My everyday life summarize to a compulsive paranoia,
a devouring fear to serve for toy again, an unceasing fear which obsess...
I'll be never able anymore to leave the abyss wherein you threw me into.
Every act, so harmless they are, bring me back in bitter remembrances.
How must we do to forget? I forgot to forget...
I became unable to believe that one day, the happiness could be there, just in my reach....

People's disinterest slay me, their quiet is worst than all.

There, just look what you've done! Maybe you were affraid that I blossom?
Put you at rest, you ensured all that I don't manage it...
And when it's not hate that I feel towards you, towards all these weak remembrances which haunt my spirit, towards everythings that I won't forget. That's me that I hate.
I hate me, if only you could know how much I hate me....
For beeing what I was, a poor girl, blind, incompetent to protect herself...
I hate what I became, a bitch who don't know how forget, the girl who suffer again and again, maybe more than before. The girl who realize only now that she won't be aware of rebuild her....
I already hate what she will become... Paranoid, liable, always with a defensive attitude... and worst again: I'll be coward... I'll never be in front off the tortures of love anymore because I will avoid them...

You can boast off give me joy, it was a contaminated gift...
Now, nothing will have any flavour...
And the sun will shine just to make me blind again...

I really would like to think that it's just for a moment, and that I will good end up by find my way...

But I can't.