What do I even want to say?

Création – Chapter Four.

Les mots me fuient,

La vue est grise,

No words are coming out.

No direction in my mind.

Is this clear enough?

What do I even want to say?

Whom am I asking?

Les idées veulent s’illuminer

Fighting each other.

My mind is dizzy in wonder.

Do I want to absorb or stare?

Lying between numbness and distress.

In a second, I want

The next one I don’t.

The melancholic French left for the holidays.

The direct English stayed for another day.

Is this clear enough?