Bad Poem #2

I look in the mirror
and hate what I see.
I can’t believe
that this person is me.
A rotten body,
I cling to decay.
I lie with men,
and claim to be gay.
A dirty woman,
a miserable whore,
I seek degradation,
and then cry, “No more.”
Sex and money
and money and sex
the awful dichotomy
drugs come next.
Smoke on my fingers,
I imagine the high.
I make love to a razor
and she kisses my thigh.
The mind of an addict,
the body of Eve.
I’m always the first one
who chooses to leave
I say that I’m damaged.
Is my body cheap?
For one hundred dollars,
I won’t even speak.
Hit me and break me,
strip the girl bare.
It was never my body,
I’ll be too high to care.


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