Confession aimable in English and French (on chorea huntington )-[work in progress]

It hurts so bad
This impotence of mine
That does not go away
And I look to him,
At him that one day
The wind will blow 
As autumn leaves astray
Amongst tatters of sanity.

A remembrance of winters,

Passed, now darkness.
My loves
His young days.

What if it were all unreality.
But it hurts so bad
This impotence of mine
That won’t but give you away.

O santi miei
Can’t you look down here
At the rubbish bins

Full of musty dreams,
Abandoned skyscrapers
Lovers’ exacerbated love
Down come the tears,

As shutters roll down
On our faces, blemished.
This Impotence of ours
It cannot be avenged.
Down, with folded hands
At an altar of pagan gods
I ask for an armistice
With humility.

And I see that little
Escapes this hypocrisy
Like on a water stream
Seconds disembark,
Carry on and alas!
While you, my love
You stagger
With no loop nor sail
So little you see
Of the front, a mirage
A lighthouse teases
At no avail that very little

Left of your reality.

Impotence of mine
Innocence of yours

So angry are these hands

Little can they embrace
Little can they defy
Little can they shore up.

Heavy load, powerful

And  wrong.

Pas de cloches, pas de bagues

Pas d’émbraces passionnés

C’est le revière

De la morgue vivante

Qui  nous a fermé

Si forte cette impuissance

A moi  qui se coule

Dans la lumière, gênée.

Peux-je faire

Un demi-tour et m’en aller ?

Monstre a toi grimaçant

Etranger, déforme

Ta bouches n’a que des

Graines de sable,

Et de cette mémoires-la

Et de ce qui a eté

And petit a peu s’en y va

Il n’y reste que cette aimable

Confession à moi, brulée.