My mom, with the green
witch's casual, sour malice,  
can verbally ****.

But she is easily
deceived by disguise
- my body is a mask.

My submission is
but a costume - my calm
the offered lie.

I detest my own
pale, small, adolescent
answers - my weakness.

you were hades
and i was persephone
and you offered me pomegranate seeds
in forms of flattery
and drugs
and promises
and, euphoria
i reveled in the hedonism that accompanied your underworld
but i was still a prisoner.

being is the utmost command--

even it goes blind when it points

to what it is upon what it is not.

there is a way, there is always a way.

light too unified with dark, dark too

unified with light as no other.

original face to original face.

could it be, is it really you--is it really me,

is it really us and no one?

Aum Namah Shivaya~

After race arousal
there was animal descent.
The gold diggers climb fairytale.

The controlled blast
avenges on the street. Belonging
drops the veil. We are *******.

Mode of violence
changes. ****** was diplomatic.
Everyone shuts the mouth.

All people look at me
but no one sees me
Their looks stop at their fantasy

That's how it is to be almost a goddess
inhuman, an image, an avatar
around my body

concealing that I exist
and preventing me from dying
although everyone wants to **** me

for what It has done
in its creative drive
from which I was born

As if I can do something about
the way men and women see me
and what follies they commit

for the phantom with my name
which is immortal and naked
looking fixedly at them

so that their weapons fall
and they reconcile
with their dreams