Επιμέλεια: Εύα Πετροπούλου Λιανού
I stand on the edge of silence, trying to forget what I don’t want to remember.
But life really doesn’t let me go.
I always hope that silence can be a blanket to cover the memories that I don’t want to remember anymore.
But from the gaps of wounds there are always faces that should have faded from memory.
And they always say . . . They say:
“I’m a slut. The beautiful light from my eyes like a deadly lightning strike”.
They say they are stunned, falling into the deep hole of my love.
They say I’m a seductive woman.
My beautiful body tempts faith, trapping the norms of rich men.
That’s what they say, lecherous men.
Seeking momentary pleasure.
My footing was indeed not good, my journey was not accompanied by the sun. Because my life is based on thorns
But if I am given the title of slut, I don’t accept it because what I am going through is the forced. To sustain my mother’s life who is on the verge of death.
