All the elements have,
at some time, been my lover—
I, whore to earthly things,
I love all that suffer…
all but the sun, too bright.
The sun, too in-your-face,
I like darkness, subtlties
and wicked ways.
And just last night the moon
bled from its wings and fell,
its face milked white as bone,
the stars began to yell.
Their screams tore up the sky,
the moon lit in my yard—
O dark, suffering night,
heaven’s falling apart.
The moon lay on the ground,
the stars still in the sky;
the moon’s glow made no sound,
the stars’ eternal cry
still haunt me now
as I look out my window;
bloodless moon will suffer
‘less my loving kill my lover.
Whore
Written during a very dark period of my life, between the depression and bipolar diagnoses.
©1994
LocoCow, 9 months ago
I must be one too.. Love your words… Great Work
pinkyjain, 9 months ago
Wow, awesome Lorie, this is great writing. So glad you are sharing these
Damian, 9 months ago
Delightful!
Nausinora, 8 months ago
Damn! I’m honestly impressed with the depth of this piece.
Crockpot in reply to Nausinora’s comment, 8 months ago
Well, thank you very much!