Virtuous Whore

Your virtuous whore,

Your bag to throw in the trash,

The thrusting, moaning, drinking, and smoking,

In the backyard holding a shotgun,

Bang, bang, bang.

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A southern belle,

Tall with long, tan legs,

Long blonde extensions that haven't changed for nearly a decade,

Slutty clothing has taken up utilized space;

Hillbilly deluxe,

Gosh, you really love that trailer look.

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Your southern abuse marked my endangered body,

Alcohol impaired my mind,

Marlboro cigarettes hexed my lungs,

Caring in units destroyed my future,

You and your home were the elm street nightmare.

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Give me CPR, my life is a helpline,

Beep, Beep, Beep.

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Please, fuck up my life.

Make me beg on my knees,

suffocate the last breath out of me,

The fallen angel,

my cry for help.

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I'm your virtuous whore.

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I was a sinner when I met you,

My puncture wound,

Your dealer,

Forsaken me,

Please, make me bleed.

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Oxidize me,

Hit me,

Polygamy in secret,

Ruin my life,

kill my B.

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I'm your virtuous whore.

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Almost killed swallowing amphetamine,

Cry about it later,

Time to run,

Rags to riches,

With Christ on my side.

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I thank you, Jesus Christ,

For forgiving the selfish choices that I keep making.

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With Jesus, there is no such thing as regret,

He accepts my acquired peace,

Embracing my fucked-up mentality,

how I leave those, who gift me.

He hides my guilt with a superficial P.

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I am no longer your virtuous whore.

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Tall, long pale legs;

The purest of my kind.

Short ashy hair and church clothes,

Flags that mimic angel wings,

My New York reverence and un-swallowed pride.

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…Your weak, alpha, virtuous whore…

ending with a D.