I thought about you tonight
And I understood that
I mean nothing to you.
I suffered like hell,
But somehow
I stopped caring.
You still on my mind
Your eyes, your lips, your insecurities
Are all what I think of
And I still want you to be mine.
But don’t worry,
I’m letting go my sorrow,
I’m facing reality
And moving on.
You made me much more cynical.
I thank you for that
And wish you happiness.
You offered me what I consider is
Much more valuable: Serenity.
You make life much easier
You achieve the great job of
Remembering me the nastiness of Man
I’m glad that you exist
You left so easily
And never cared
You probably forgot me
Ironically, I was just prepared
I once dreamed of you
And thought that you are mine.
But I woke up soon enough
To see how distant you are
And feel how ridiculous it is to hope.
I didn’t know you
But you were all what I think of.
I wished to touch you,
I dreamed of your lips,
I wanted to stare at you for hours
And I just knew
That we will never belong together.
She doesn’t care,
I say to myself before sleeping.
Still I dream of her
And have her on my mind all day long.
You are what I dream of
Your lips, your eyes and your skin.
I want you next to me;
I want to smell you,
I want to touch you.
I simply want you.
You said that you will always care
That you will never forget
And you probably believed it.
Now you feel less empty
You don’t need company.
Now you’re like anyone else again,
You forgot without noticing,
You don’t care
But you still want me to do.
I remember you only
Because I’m lonely,
Only because happiness
Don’t know my name yet.
But I can’t say it better than Antoine Pol.
You will soon be one of his Passantes to me.
I think of you and I know,
That we will soon don’t care
That you probably already don’t.
Tu n’es plus là.
Comme j’ai prévu, tu es déjà partie.
Mais je vois ton ombre partout où je vais.
Je respire ton parfum dans tous les coins,
Je sens ta main dans mes cheveux
Et tes lèvres sur les miennes.
Tout est fini, ou presque.
Mais tu seras pour moi,
Une des ces filles que je n’oublierai jamais.
Une de ces filles qui seront toujours
Un désir inassouvi,
Un mystère jamais résolu.
Une des Passantes d’Antoine Pol.
Tu étais un rêve,
Une drogue dont je ne pouvais m’en passer.
Pourtant, tu as facilement oublié;
Et sans dire un mot, tu m’as réveillé.
Tu m’as ramené à la réalité
Et tu t’es transformée en un songe,
Ce songe fade et amer qui me rappelle ma naïveté.
It’s one of those days,
Where my lucidity and cynicism are obnoxious.
Where the absurdity of life,
The lack of sense and the emptiness I feel
Are unbearable.
It’s one of those days,
Where I need you
And crave to feel your hand in my hair.
But life goes on.
Here I am,
Feeling detached from everything again
And being serene when saying to myself,
Nothing matters.
