I have been raped.
And the artist or this art is still roaming with liberty, breathing without guilt and regret, relishing her taste buds with someone's flesh, entering other's thoughts and shattering others peace, to decorate her arena of power, of satisfaction through misery of innocents, her world of stains!
SHE is FREE.
She is clean, yet unknown to the world of who she really is : A SCAVENGER.
Stab on the face of humanity.
Curse on the kumkum beckoning her forehead.
An Artist; capturing blood, bloodstains, creating big black holes in while portraits.
Vanquish of feminism; moulding the bashfulness to wrath and lust.
Enving small hearts who wish to fly, to dream.
Nagging faiths and tiring the threads of others fate all round her wrists.
Greedy of other's happiness, greedy of cries and screams.
Embarrassing feline tender and delicacy.
Raged mortal who is blood-thirsty, toxic and cruel.
Which court will give justice to me?
When will my culprit be behind the bars, known to the world of her sins?
Who will stand for me, if my legs are a little too fragile?
Will my pleas be heard, if my screams and shouts weren't?
Where shall I beg for my virginity to be restored and my body cleaned?
If I say I raped myself.