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The Devil’s Whore


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A letter to a junkie…..

There you are once again

you know it’s you

time to admit it

you’ve hurt us all this time.

The devil’s whore,

that’s what you are

what was it this time

did you mix it with weed

a cocoa-puff to suite your need?

When did you feel the guilt

when you came down off your high

ran out of your product can no longer fly.

What triggered the end, this time, 

something we said, or didn’t, life just sucks.

Did the money run out

can’t the junkie get hold of the devil.

He ain’t listening, he knows you’re broke

please leave a message is all you got when you called the bloke.

Don’t call us, we won’t answer, not this time.

The drama plays out

it’s always all about you

the,drama queen

though you’ll never admit it

You loath drama, remember, we know that you said it.

You don’t even hear us; do you?

We gave you money when you were destitute

Yet here we are, destitute, and where are you

high in your corner sulking like an infant

  poor me, boo-hoo.

Some leant you money when you needed it

so you could go away, get clean, again

but you didn’t did you

lair, twister of tales.

They didn’t have it to give but they did it any way

manipulated by sob stories

betrayed

did you ever once think to repay it

ungrateful fuck, that’s what you are

selfish prick, hiding inside your own ass-hole.

You don’t even see our struggles

manipulate the conversation right back to all about you

when-ever we try to tell you something about our woes.

You don’t hear because you don’t want to,

because we make you face your reality.

The things you’ve done

the pain you’ve caused.

The avalanche you left behind.

If you know what it is and what it does

why let the devil back in over and over again

 the coward, the liar, the twister of tales.

Round-a-bout ride

every three months to be exact

set our calendars to it

the ugly cycle you spin for yourself

leaving the rest of us up on the shelf.

You’ve had chance after chance 

yet you’ve spun lie after lie

to act as if it’s okay to tell us you’re going to die.

The addict, the junkie, curled up in your pit

there you are, you were left reeling for it

lying on the floor bleeding for it

begging at the door screaming for it

you’re strung again out on it

If you go back inside , we’ll be watching you die

a cycle on the fairground ride

You spin round and round

connecting to no-one but him

Devil’s whore you are , what a bore you are

You tire us

you’ve just gone to far

When is it enough to not want it any more?

Is this just another story you want us to believe you to never give it a thought.

Then, my friend, it’s time to give it all up and stop being the devil’s whore.

Here is your end. Is it warm there?

Here is your end. Is it warm there?

Note from the writer:   Life’s atrocities, I lost to many friends to this very thing and just recently the anniversary of one of my best friends, Leslie Smith, death came and went on June 20th; Cocaine blew out his heart while he slept in his bed, his son came home from school that day and found him stone cold dead; but he is always on my mind for he left behind a teenage son with Aspergers syndrome and ODD. So very sad. Another Dwayne, Set himself on fire with gasoline and died of his burn injuries not to long later. And Another Keith, got inside his car in the middle of the night in the garage put a pipe from the tailpipe to the window ran the car and died of carbon monoxide poisoning. And yet another hung himself with a rope in the basement of his house. And another blew off his own head with a gun. I am tired of watching it happen, I just don’t know if I could ever go through it again. For each one of them that dies a piece of me dies too.

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Copy Right Protected by the Crimson Vaults 2015.

Copy Right Protected
by the Crimson Vaults since 
2015.

**Click on any Image to redirect to the images webpage/designer where it has been provided.
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One response

  1. BAM!

    Liked by 1 person

    January 10, 2016 at 9:12 PM

Thank you for Visiting with love JillyG

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