Lovers

by Luna

To Mickey, with love.

Love.
That's how
you termed it.
Heroin ~ claws
hooked deep in your soul.
Struggling to put her down
bore no fruit. Neither my love,
nor cajoling divided you.
The needle had become your master ~
family and friends now came in second.
Your demons, inner turmoil ruled your days.
Attempts to recover gave me hope,
I loved you more than my own life.
Your last time was your last time;
the burden was lifted
from you, while the hole
In my frayed heart
forever
will not
heal.

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Etheree Poetry contest entry

Recognized

My 23-year old son, Mickey, died from the last of many overdoses on the day before he was to move into my home to live.
He once wrote a poem about heroin being a female - a lover which he could try to leave but always drew him back. This Thanksgiving is two years since the last time I saw Mickey alive and on January 8, 2017, my baby will have gone to his Creator two years ago.

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A double etheree on heroin, love and death

A chapter in the book Luna's Form Poetry

Lovers

by Luna

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