Candles and ditch

First year of life
First birthday
Of the memories I don't have
Fossilized in portraits
2,3,4 ...
At 8
I celebrated my new cycle
In a new city
My soul took my face
Watchful of my secrets, addictions
sins
People's rag
Uniformed
As if / I was another body
Industrialized
And not just another monkey
Full of desires
That's when I didn't grow up
The short of a high generation
The winds of this sadness
My call
More birthday candles
Just a soul, that's just a prison
Longing from times gone by
But only one time
My feet and the ditch
That I dig myself
Sweats, tears, jets
A sacred ground
That will be greased with my blood
When my mirror breaks
And disappear in an instant
From dark