If her walk be glory Then gold be her street If her smile be magic Then her teeth glitter and glow If her sleep be smoke Then her walk an inferno, her walk yes She is the rose of the years If her beauty

Once a rose blooms it begins to wilt Once it begins to shoot into the sky It begins to sag to the ground, scraping the dirt with its curled dark red petals Once a rose blooms curse looms over it , jaws

Stars kept slipping past her fingers, Moons kept falling off like autumn leaves, She witnessed her suns dim in broad daylight, her clouds melt like ice, pounced on by livid heat waves and rays, only superman

It takes angels to cherish her demons the purest halo to embrace her hell fire and the perfect pair of wings to escape her sharp devil horns.

Angel you are beautiful your smile is plentiful this world will ruin you this world will stain you flee! spread your erratic wings and flee! Mountains cry trees fly winds and waterfalls lie do not let

What a smile! One large lamp for a face, smaller lanterns where skin stretches over bones waiting for muscle, body all angles. His Kalashnikov fires at each moving thing before he knows what he drags down.

That I do not miss Starving my skin of your often-light kiss Carving my fears into monuments like these, different sizes I furnish the interior walls of my shelter, I seal the curtains too, so you do not

They told you she fancied the sound of retreating water on sand they told you she was intrigued by the lather that remained that is how you ended up at the bay, watching her hair dance with the tireless

Mona Lisa I am a painter The dyes I pick are fainter The angel I paint is fairer Her skin glows dimly like the setting sun Her hair flatters the fairy sparkles that light up her chubby smile For miles

One day I will cease to exist hence today I persist, I splash my soul all over I spread it out like a clover, I drape it in ink and paint I make sure it´s not faint, One day these paintings will adorn

Once in a while When I need to commit suicide, With some long enough strands of letters and words I weave a rope, make a loop wide enough to fit my neck, I hang myself at the top of the page, kick and

When winter sweats, oceans swear When spring is dull, trees are null When summer is dry, rivers cry When autumn is dressed, winds are depressed When I seek you my lips swear my heart cries my cheeks are

I am not hungry I am angry Do not confuse my fatigue! with fatigue I am not tired, I am tired! I am tired! of not being wined and dined Of being mined and drilled My soul is not a resource I am a source

When I am sad I wear the memory of your smile When I am drenched in tears I wipe my cheeks with the memory of your laughter When I am broken I repair myself with the memory of your joy It is strange, the

When they lodge a steel blade of words deep into your heart and you feel invincible When they feed you a mouthful of lies and you feel your taste buds quake with delight When they pour burning sulfur all

I HAVE HIDDEN AFRICA I have tattooed Africa on my heart your sharp eyes will never poke her I have tattooed Africa on my heart your poisonous spit will never touch her I have tattooed Africa on my heart

A MAN NAMED GUILT And he became a stench and seeped out of you quietly, at the edge of your reach he gawped at you, his words were intractable and firm like boulders, he hurled them at you, he held you,

Meme by me Image by INDEPENDENT (

It seems as if society is consciously ignoring the fact that women are being treated as objects these days. It´s not just the lack of such discussions in society that is worrying but also about the role