Fear not. In here, you are safe.
Every last thing inside bites,
Yes, but only at oneself.
Not that you have yet seen
The underneath of that peel.
How do you scratch yourself in ?
You may not. You ask. Politely.
And then you may come in.
You might find yourself lost at first
In this messy, yet familiar labyrinth.
You are not ;
The walls will be holding you
As much as they need company.
So reassure yourself.
While you take one step after another
If you ever rise your fingers
Against bricks and paper and clay,
You could feel the breathing, endearing sighs
Of what’s been left inside.
Then you’ll cross figures in the shadows
– Do they live ?
This you shall find out for yourself
Clues here cannot be handed
– Only heard from lost whisperers.
Fear not, here you are safe
And the house can’t stay
Around of you for long.
Fear not, here you are safe
Although you can’t leave it
It will leave you in time
And without noticing
You will stay there and chafe
The very roots from which
You’d been living inside.
Fear not, but be safe.
If you ever come back
There’ll be two of a kind
That shall fall together.
Je crois que je me suis un petit peu inspirée du premier roman de mon amie Zoé, alors, je lui ai emprunté un peu de titre.
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