The shooting stars we used to see,
Up in the sky, just you and me,
Those are the times I hold so dear,
Laughing, joking, we had no fear.
This poem hit home for me. I have a brother who I used to be best friends with. We did everything together, even after I found out that he was addicted to heroin and crack. I would ask him to...
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I've always made you first in life,
and now for that, I completely pay the price.
You've caused me so much pain,
made me go crazy and insane.
It's walking a path, a path you take every day,
but suddenly one day there is a huge hole in the middle of your path
and you're not paying attention
because you walked this path every day for years.
I'm 46 and life has passed me by because of addiction. I've also been a cutter for 30 years, and nothing can stop the tears.
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Another spill down the drain,
one more pill to drown my pain.
Is it a cover up or a disguise
I don't think I'll ever stop and realize.
My husband has always battled with addiction. We have been together for 14 1/2 years. About 3 years ago he was really strung out on meth and pain pills, to the point that I was completely...
As I went away,
You wasted another day.
I guess I wasn't as important
As you used to say.
I'm so sorry that I'm hurting you,
You know there's nothing I can do.
Every time I inject, I think of you,
How you're thinking this can't be true.
I am so sorry for your pain. I am also going through the same pain. It's so heart-breaking that I cant even speak out loud to anyone about my boys because the pain is so deep that I break...
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Your words seem slurred and jumbled
As if you're not making any sense
Eyes red like you're lacking sleep
And you always seem to be tense
Amen. Prayers for anyone who suffers from addiction and for all of the lives that are touched by a person's addiction, as well. Blessings on you for the rest of your life.
She chased the dragon into the night
Now we fear she will never see the light
She has so much to live for
But nothing can fill her emptiness more
Most days I feel like screaming at the top of my lungs.
I want my mother back.
Who is this monster you have become?
One pill, two pills, three pills, four.
The children are counting Xanax pills they pick off the floor.
Mommy's sister committed suicide in 2009; that's when this all started.
Same here. The full poem was actually 4 pages long; a lot of the story was cut out to meet the size limit. The point where the children decided she chose the drugs over them was because of...
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