The Lost Crossroads of The PoppiesA Poem by icelandicblueFor Janice and Al in memory of their daughter who lost her battle with addiction today.
You only choose the needle once
and then she chooses you. A siren, with promises of synaptic explosions in lotus blossom ecstasy. The remedy transforms into the curse, and the song she sings entices, a melodious and mesmerizing tune, alien but you hum it like a long-lost lullaby. Eventually her voice fades in and out and her notes become more discordant. She has donned the role of the other woman and your need only grows the further she strays, possessing her completely your life's desire. Worn out now, standing on a street corner, her purity had always been her greatest illusion, her beauty faded beneath harsh light matters not, and the more detached she becomes the more you long to be detached from it all. She harnesses your strength and will bequeathed to the Queen of Opiates. Sitting on the throne at the end of a long road to hell she ravages you with the ghost of a toxic kiss that sealed your contract long ago upon the lost crossroads of the poppies. © 2014 icelandicblueReviews
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Added on April 4, 2014Last Updated on April 4, 2014 AuthoricelandicblueBostonAboutI do not accept any new friend requests unless we have read and commented on each others poetry. No exceptions. I have enough homework as it is. I expect reciprocity in our exchanges. Read my work and.. more..Writing
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