[janey]

A service user who wants to remain anonymous has asked me to post a poem:
 
I FEELLIKE A GAMBLING PROSTITUTE
I went to gambling today
I wish that my gambling addiction would goaway I lost every penny that I had I felt so annoyed and sad
 
I met a man and he lent me some money
I felt I needed money – but I was sorry
I needed to chase the money that I had lost I knew thought that I had to pay the cost
 
I felt the man came nearer to me
I felt him touch me sexually
I started to feel that I didn’t care
I felt in away that I wasn’t there
 
I ended up having sex that was meaninglessand cold I knew that it was payment for what I owed I felt unaware of what was going on I felt that there wasn’t a need to be gone
 
I felt that when it was finished I felt soupset I felt that what I had done was somethingto regret I felt like a prostitute then and there I felt this was something to fear
 
I feel that I need to understand why?
I wander why I always have sex – eventhough I try?
I feel like a ‘gambling prostitute’ rightnow I wander if I can change and how?
 

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