Content Warning : Do you want to continue?
This poem contains content which some readers may find disturbing.
It is unsuitable for children or anyone who is easily offended.
YES
I am over 18 years old, I have been warned and I still want to read this poem.
I am over 18 years old, I have been warned and I still want to read this poem.
NO
I don't want to read this type of content, take me back to the previous page.
I don't want to read this type of content, take me back to the previous page.
deepundergroundpoetry.com
don't love me, she said
Lola. maybe she was meant to be a hooker –
she had the right name for the job.
I write, to purge the past & discourage the future.
it’s a survival trigger, keeping me bound at my table
composing, so I’m not on the streets searching for Lola.
she was crassly typical of the hardcore whore: her wardrobe
was strictly Fredericks of Hollywood & the obscene secrets of
Victoria. she employed heavy makeup, a mordant, China-doll
distortion. her eyes, always too dark, her lips, too red. it was
her camouflage, she said. so God wouldn’t recognize her.
her talents weren’t restricted to her sexual skills; she could
regale a man with tales of her lurid past, for the proper
exchange of cash. just like her mouth, her ass, & her cunt,
everything had a pricetag.
I’ve trespassed in the shadowy places, where she cries when
she confronts her ugly sister who lives in the mirror. she weeps
for the sins that fester on her flesh like warts. for the wild girl
who couldn’t control the fire that blazed in the deep sanctum
of her lust; the raging need that drove her to a man’s bed, any
man, until it became the dominant force of her life.
she looks at that sorrowful woman, that harlot, & sees ugliness.
I see only beauty.
I pay to be with her, & I am sick, physically sick, when I’m away
from her. in the futile embrace of my passion, she has warned:
‘don’t love me.’ & when I have written too long into the night, &
I am drunk with too much whiskey, I epiphanize, by the madness
of my contemptible heart
first, she is the lover. then she is the loneliness…
Published 28th Dec 2014
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 17
reading list entries 7
comments 14
reads 1592
Commenting Preference:
The author encourages honest critique.
Anonymous
28th Dec 2014 3:12am
i wonder if this is unrequited love or just the fact that she has up too many walls. good write.
I love reading your work John, It always seem to have a 1950s noir film vibe to them...at least it does to me
So great poem and keep them coming
So great poem and keep them coming
28th Dec 2014 6:59am
28th Dec 2014 8:57am
Ahh..the madness manifestations.. As in your last verse..so poetic n testimonial to a diehard lover in you. a fine piece of art, JF.
Anonymous
- Edited 25th Sep 2020 3:45am
28th Dec 2014 2:37pm
<< post removed >>
28th Dec 2014 5:20pm
John a very passionate write about being in love with a working girl.. beautiful inking with love Crim
A beautiful tribute to someone who touched you deeply..you can feel that throughout, but especially at the end...
28th Dec 2014 10:40pm
oh John, it seems she devoured more than just your body....an incredible woman.
29th Dec 2014 6:07am
i love the way you paint your protagonists in all their flawed beauty
another wonderful piece, Mister Feddeler
another wonderful piece, Mister Feddeler
30th Dec 2014 1:21am
Both bittersweet and sordid, a tricky blend very well executed. It's a conundrum when this lady feels undeserving of your love, which makes you love her all the more. Her self-punitive guilt is heart breaking.
30th Dec 2014 3:36pm
A stunning look from within a tainted heart. Your words slice deep with a brutal truth. Love it, John. This journey I've been on within your works has increased my thirst for the exquisite.
31st Dec 2014 7:31am
Superb Ending John..made me want to read this all over again..Excellence as always..truly enjoyed :)
2nd Jan 2015 00:02am
16th May 2017 10:23am
The affinity for broken things;
how beauty hides beneath them.
Such a masterfully written piece, John, you leave me breathless...
how beauty hides beneath them.
Such a masterfully written piece, John, you leave me breathless...
