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Poetry: "Amazona" by Artemis Saleh



To all the strong Souls that #didnotreport

She was alone. 
The old stories and songs walked her by, 
as if they would not remember her anymore. 
She had betrayed 
her own ones.

She was sitting alone.
No one would ever 
sit next to her again. 
She knew it.

She was sitting way up, 
on her tree, 
that she had planted once.

Her heart 
Didn‘t want to have to do with her anymore. 
Her mind 
was droven hysterically.
The hate 
had first swallowed her 
and then spitten her out again.
She was a woman.

Hot tears flooded her scarred corpse. 
Filling the hollow on her ribcage, 
where once had grown a breast, 
that she had taken off a long time ago.

Back then, 
If she would have been given 
the opportunity 
to decide for someone 
and against something.
She would have done it 
without hesitation. 
But things had happened. 
In the madness of trust.

So how should something 
be regreded, 
that hasn‘t been done 
by oneself?

She felt no fear 
for the beauty of the future 
that could have layed in front of her. 
No.
The returning memory of the past. 
Its arrival 
was what she feared.

She was paralyzed.
A piercing scream escaped her chest, 
distressing 
bone marrow and roots of the tree.

She lost the feeling. 
First for space and time. 
Then for warmth and coldness. 
And in the end for dream and reality.

She flinched 
and started falling. 
Smashed 
against the cracking branches. 
Some scars were opened again. 
Other gaping wounds arose on scarfree skin. 
A branch 
bore itself through the gums above her incisors, 
after catching her tounge severing it 
and boring on through her lip. 
It teared open.

Her long hair 
got tangled up into the branches 
and pulled itself out her head.

Through the brunt of falling 
her corpse skidded against the trunk 
and cutted itself 
where ripcage and lower back meet each other 
deep into the flesh.

She striked the ground. 

The arrows 
that had fallen out her quiver 
and the battleaxe 
she had tied around her thigh, 
sank almost patternlike 
into her already raped corpse.

But nevertheless. 
She was still breathing. 
Slowly, 

like a rushing and calm water. 
Hardly perceptible. 
In this raging madness. 
She was freed. 
Through the fall into the coarse pain.
She flew 
into the comforting arms of delirium.

She smiled 
the most horrible smile 
the tree had ever seen 
of her. 
She laughed 
out of the depths of her corpse, 
even though 
she could not make a noise 
without her tounge. 

She almost choked on it, 
but no. 
She breathed out. 
And then in 
as deep and sincere as never before.

She disappeared.
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