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Belladonna Tears

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Madness

Crying and alone,
I lay in my beloved darkness.

No better than the whore
I've been christened,
maybe everyone's right.

When will my punishment end
What did I do to deserve it?

Don't deserve to love,
to live, or to die,
stuck in this cursed purgatory.

Maybe they're all right about me,
a scarlet whore, seeking solace in one bed after another.

Something ties me to this world,
though I know it isn't for me to possess
a goodness that I don't deserve.

Tears fall from soulless eyes,
want to give up, for it all to end,
but it won't time just keeps going.

I don't want to die,
I just want to be free,
to be held and loved again.

So I cry, a scarlet whore,
the wretch that can't ever be saved.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

the poem is about how I feel a lot of the time, especially recently. The name Belladonna is an herb, if taken in small doses, it's a sedative. But if taken too much, it can be fatal.

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last updated 11 November 2010 - 3:59am
©26 October 2005 - 10:50pm — clutchforbalance
27 September 2010 - 3:08pm — Christy Woodcock (not verified)
Christy Woodcock's picture

the past has made you who you are today, a beautiful, compassionate woman who is stronger today because of yesterday

17 January 2006 - 11:18pm — Dylan Thibodeaux (not verified)
Dylan Thibodeaux's picture

Just because you make a mistake, it doesn't mean you're a whore. Nobody understands anyone else's life completely, so no one has a right to judge you.
love ya, terry