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LNI Oct 2018
The war inside me is over
And now I'm looking for my Oikos
I chose a way full of trials
I chose the way of exile

My flesh shall be my poetry
and my bones my final shield

There’s no God other than I
There’s no holy other than me
I took the way of an oxymoron tale
I took the way of a massive fail

My skin in ultimate grief
My hair resisting to the winds

My body is my vehicle,
my home and my miracle.

Penelope on her own for a female Odyssey
Of rigorous honesty

Now, seeker, rise up and speak your truth.
LNI Apr 2018
With loathe and resentment
I wish for contentment
But there ain't too much of a thrill
When my emptiness cannot be filled.

With pills and black heels
I'm paying my bills
But my emotional debt
as you bet, I tend to neglect.

Yes, I acknowledge
it has gotten to be a bit of a pleasure
feeling so much displeasure

But ****** has mothered me so much
And now I am mesmerized by her soft touch

And people ask WHY
But don't they know that I swore to die?

I need sleep,
But Morpheus must be a Scorpius
As he is my star, my king
with his burning sting

I don't mind
If I've become blind
As I've already survived from that tainted spring
where Tiresias got his mortal drink

And maybe
I'll transform myself into a man for seven years
Penanced to **** sacred deers
But my ******* are blessed
to cut them off my chest

How could I eradicate myself?
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LNI Apr 2018
I worship a body of one’s own
In a world where nobody is born naked anymore.

Please, show me how to own my ****** In the realm of human crudity.

So, bear with me, as I clear my thoughts.
Why is everyone more horrified by ******* and vaginas
Than authoritarianism in China?

We don’t blink an eye while watching executions on TV
Or images of refugees drawing in the Aegean sea.

But we need to be protected from the sight of women’s ******* as we stay unruffled on the sight of war cripples.

How bewilderingly curious we are
To watch the remains of a terrorist attack.

Or a knife across a throat that starts bleeding,
Or observe brain fluid's seeping.

But how indifference and repulse are leading
When it comes to watching vaginas discharges and period bleeding.

And how terror and fear are defeating
The grandeur of an image capturing an ******’s screaming.

How startlingly we have tangled the splendor of yearning for ****** violence with the horridness of capricious ultra violence.

The body doesn’t corrupt humanity. The body is humanity.

Where was your Jesus when you’re greedy?
Was he baptizing the human body’s affair with its holy cravings seedy?

Beware, beware,
of the fools who have debauched the human flesh
and give it to the dogs to tear.
LNI Mar 2018
How are we supposed to love if we don't even share the same definition?
It's farcical.
People say they love you, but they don’t.
They love how you make them feel.
They love you because you’re appealing or wealthy or something else.
Thus they're taking something from you.
They love how freely you live your life and how they lack any responsibility towards you.
They love you since you make them feel ecstatic and whole.
Thy love how you make them come and how you drink their juices.

But don't hurry to judge them as we've all taken away recklessly by the spiral band of morality.

But this isn't loving.
This is pilfering.
This is usurping upon my way of existing accomplished painfully.
This is seizing my ability to fight.
This is begging for my sympathy.
This isn't loving.
This is projecting on me something that I’m not.

Love was supposed to be lovely.
It was supposed to be about giving not taking.
It was supposed to be about accepting not judging and manipulating.
Love was supposed to be therapeutic not the sickness.
What have we done to love?
I’ve given up entirely to love.
I’m going for my love from now on.
I am love.
I must be love.
LNI Mar 2018
Blighted and sorrowful of all creatures are women.
And I, one of them.

I’m massacring my unborn children as a merciless contemporary Medea.
Is there any sense in reproducing creatures of perpetual sadness and despotic desires?

Motherhood. Motherliness.
A fragile pebble carried carefully by my heart.

My mother, sad as the gloomiest Sunday, hopeless as a death wish.
She would often ask me to smile. She was complaining that I was very cheerless for a girl.

Then she would show me how to do it.
It’s still the saddest smile I've ever seen.
LNI Feb 2018
There's no love.
But there's Eros.
There's no romantic love.
But there's passion.
Don't seek Love.
Be love.

The inner beast should first be tamed.
love, eros,
LNI Jan 2018
When a new day begins
We butcher our desires.
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