I stumbled upon this a couple of days ago and wanted to share with you guys:
“Funny, I don’t remember no good dope days.
I remember walking for miles in a dope fiend haze.
I remember sleeping in houses that had no electric.
I remember being called a junkie, but I couldn’t accept it.
I remember hanging out in abandos that were empty and dark.
I remember shooting up in the bathroom and falling out at the park.
I remember nodding out in front of my sisters kid.
I remember not remembering half of the things that I did.
I remember the dope man’s time frame, just ten more minutes.
I remember those days being so sick that I just wanted to end it.
I remember the birthdays and holiday celebrations.
All the things I missed during my incarceration.
I remember overdosing on my bedroom floor.
I remember my sisters cry and my dad having to break down the door.
I remember the look on his face when I opened my eyes,
thinking today was the day that his baby had died.
I remember blaming myself when my mom decided to leave.
I remember the guilt I felt in my chest making it hard to breathe.
I remember caring so much but not knowing how to show it.
and I know to this day that she probably don’t even know it.
I remember feeling like I lost all hope.
I remember giving up my body for the next bag of dope.
I remember only causing pain, destruction and harm.
I remember the track marks the needles left on my arm.
I remember watching the slow break up of my home.
I remember thinking my family would be better off if I just left them alone.
I remember looking in the mirror at my sickly completion.
I remember not recognizing myself in my own Damn reflection.
I remember constantly obsessing over my next score
but what I remember most is
getting down on my knees and asking God to save me
cuz I don’t want to do this no more !!! “- Delaney Farrell
*DISCLAIMER* this is not my poem. Links below to the story and the original Obit. Super sad, however, honest, raw, and real.