Moon Flower

Moon flower You lay on white cotton sheets with the hospital logo imprinted on the cloth and on the fabric of your life talcum powder for your bed sores anorexic washed out gastric spittle dribbling from ulcerous mouth facing what had to come no more shine no radiant beauty just a living corps in the moonlit dusky night Fed up and fed through lines in your flaccid arms scared from where the needles had left skinned putrid innocent islands had succumbed to chasing the dragon fallen off addictive wagons breathing shallowly through white powder perforated nose the stigma of questing for life in ecstacy a dim echo of delusion Noose marks round your neck overdosed under-clothed a crazy lunatic dishevelled mis-resemblance of what should have been was meant to be a vibrant journey not eclipsed by crying despair Your parents had called you Luna Flora the moonflower in their pagan hippie delight had not considered the toxic poisonous stars Moonflower one of the most romantic plants in the garden sweetly fragrant trumpet shaped blossoms unfurled in the night pollinated by moths like white powder spreading beauty and toxic devil’s weed Luring enticing tempting dangerous hallucinating agitated confusion when sucked in too eagerly not knowing where and when to stop Like belladonna which you had meant to portray the night flower shed its shadow cast indigestible spells over your paths on earth too short wasted rejected drowning in sorrowful blindness side-lined from sun and sparkling stars into the wicked night of helpless evil you withered rushed from shot to shot one too many dirty cannulas oozing A desiccated child-woman of the night pushing and pulling from client to client giving your sex for their money extorted by pimps on street corners dirty sprung mattresses feeding phallic prickly bursts of sprinkling disgust a skeleton draped in loose lucid skin fondled breasts you opened your legs closed your shame for anti-heroic heroin Dressed in white cotton you marvelled stone dead in lunar radiance from your marble coffin at midnight when the bells chimed good bye when your friend and you parents had lost their minds and only child at the final curtain last act of resistance to the ambiguity of Luna Deflorata vanished to fangs of white powder white pills translucent misery injected Written at midnight 22 August 2016