SO…….I stopped making payments (so to speak) on my other blog house. I’m evicting myself before anyone else has a chance. This poem is part of the baggage I brought over. I wrote this when I was 13 years old and it is about my 1st and 3rd step-mother. That would be singular people. My father married her twice because he said, “I forgot she was crazy.”, which is crazy in itself. This woman was insane and evil. She offered me drugs when I was eleven and decided it was important to show me a book of very graphic pictures of what grownups like to do when they are alone. I saw her giving her five-year old a cigarette and some much worse things I don’t care to mention. She also kept a calendar and marked future dates, with comments about getting my sister and I in trouble. I kid you not. BUT…..back then and when people are in love, they don’t tend to believe what could only be in their mind, outrageous made-up stories by a child. Oh well, now you know why I’m so twisted.

An everlasting inferno

from which I can’t escape

A ring of fire that dresses me and…

won’t let me breathe

Just as the flames lower and…

I make my way through

They see me and rise

They smother me with…

their fiery arms

The heat melts my heart

Time passes and…

the fire thrives

My insecurities and heartaches…

feed its desires

The more it grows

the more I die within

Until I too,  am an inferno

from which one can’t escape

P.S.: Sorry I haven’t made my blog rounds recently, but I’ve been in rehab.

P.S.S: That just sounded more credible than “lazy ass, who selfishly keeps writing her own shit”, doesn’t it?


28 thoughts on “Inferno

      1. It’s nice to be wanted. You might change your mind once I get to my blog reading and make comments like a mad woman on yours. I can’t wait to see what’s waiting for my inspiring commentary.


    1. Thanks. I’m not a pack rat or hoarder, but when it comes to my artwork and writing…..I pretty much have it all. I have stuff from 3rd grade. I’ve got so much, I’ll probably post a lot of previously written stuff mixed in with some new.


  1. IM-pressive! I can’t even pretend to write like that now. Amazing. That being said, I hope you are writing a book…I’d buy it. And as for being a lazy-ass on other people’s blogs…it happens. I’m attempting to play catch up as well…


    1. Thanks so much. I have to credit the personality I was born with and my ability to write about it all… for making it through. What a great coping skill. My siblings didn’t seem to fair as well.


  2. This poem reflects the difficult and terribleness
    that surrounded your early teenage years, such
    a darker time, but with positivity you were able
    to push beyond the envelope of this existence
    and hold on to your sanity. The past helps one
    to mould the present and the future in a very
    different way and you have shown courage in
    becoming the person that you are today 🙂 🙂

    Well done you 🙂

    Androgoth XXx


    1. You are so sweet. I appreciate your comments and I agree 100% about the past making us who we are today. Sanity is something I’m glad to have held onto. I was blessed with a personality and creative outlet to run to when I needed to counsel myself through it all. In fact, most of my poetry was written when I was in highschool. It’s such an emotional time for all teens, isn’t it?!?


      1. Yes of course it is, and in creatively writing through your more emotional phases as a youngster you have been able to surge forwards staying refreshed, and also keeping an open mind in the process…

        Have a wonderful
        rest of evening Lorre 🙂

        Androgoth XXx


      2. You are going to give me a big head, which I wouldn’t mind, except I am trying to lose weight. Such kind words, what’s a girl to do?

        Have an interesting evening and get into some trouble. Not too much though. Just enough to have fun and be wicked of course.


    1. Crazy is as crazy does and she did crazy well.
      Yeah….I was pretty impressed with my writing as a young soul, but it’s funny….this step-mom, (because I’ve had 4, but really 3…since this one was 2x)….well…..she stole my book of poetry and took all the ones that seemed depressing out. She gave them to her counselor, who was seeing her because she tried to kill herself a few times. She tried to throw me under the bus and get me into counseling because I seemed suicidal. He ate up everything she said. I never believed in a counselor since. I told them both their were full of it.


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