The Lost Crossroads of The Poppies

For 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.

Reviews

[A. Amos]

Poignant, deep and honest write...very strong poetry.

[icelandicblue]

Thank you Amos.

[MsJewel]

You have brought tears to my eyes this evening...remembering a very good friend who has been fighting this fight for a very, very long time. It breaks my heart.

My sympathy to your friends...

:) Julie

[icelandicblue]

Thank you, it is a crisis that has touched so many. It truly is an epidemic. Thanks so much Jewel for your kindness.