adieu
wearing a deathlace
in the bony garden
the pretty women as statues
when I’ve known none of them
eyes, not mine, stare back
if I have failed, let me go
through dooms of silence
in suffering of the first born,
the last born, upon the orange groves
and syrup of my old home.
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Pseudopsychosis. 
12 responses to “Adieu.”
WOw. Spectacular. Breathtaking.
in suffering of the first born,
the last born, upon the orange groves
and syrup of my old home.
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Thank you so much, G! ❤ ❤
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My pleasure 🌹🌹🌹
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WOW *
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Transfixing imagery, Lucy, and filled with a (rich) resignation.
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Thank you!
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I have a question, and I do not mean to pry. Nor do I need an explanation. But your poetry is often painful and dark — and beautiful. Is everything alright in your life? Sending you light and faeries just in case.
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Oh, if I had a penny… 😁
Sorry, it’s honestly funny since I get these questions here and there. My life is fine, thank you for asking! I’m kind of like a horror writer, I guess, with poetry. I hope all is well with you.
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Well, you do it quite well! I need to put a toe or foot in the dark pool too. Take a stab at writing something dark. You inspire me!
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Aww, I don’t know what to say. Thank you so much! ❤ ❤ You’re an inspiration yourself.
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Hauntingly beautiful, Lucy
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Thank you so much, Maria!
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