My soul hurts so much that
I awaken the stones under the earth
My womanhood,
a moneybox filled with stones
a home to worms, woodpeckers
a cave to the wolves climbing down my body
on my arms, new seeds are sprinkled
the man of your life is searched
that is quite a serious matter
My womanhood, my cold snack
and my pubic, a home for nothingness,
the world stands here
and you! live with the rubbish thrown into you
When he is gone, tell him that flesh leaves nails
that you live with the science of the break
tell him of that serious illness
like a lamb skin, I am cold in your gaze
I am not in debt to you your mothers womb, sir!
my womanhood, my invaded continent
neither am I a land cultivated…
scratch off the organ that is not mine
like a snake skin, I wish I could drop it
it is not reasonable to be a mother to a murder
it is not homeland that is divided
but the body of woman
now, do not tell me of men!
Müesser Yeniay (born 1984) Turkey
Source: Poethead
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