Sitting here many feelings, yet so frozen,
I'm a mother of a severe drug addict the life he's chosen.
Beating myself up for anything I've ever done wrong,
My gut tells me, my heart aches soon my son will be gone.
Why do I hurt for he has verbally abused me so bad?
Many times as a mother I've gotten very mad.
Insanity oh yes, definitely are my head and thoughts,
obsessive thinking of what ifs, as my son rots.
He is dying of the disease of the mind of addiction,
I too suffer horribly from this same disease of affliction.
Death is where we both are at, so many times,
It's not just mother and son, it's the family and crimes.
Definitely a crime of life that anyone would have to suffer,
from a disease of the mind of insanity, not getting tougher.
Where oh God has the desire to even live anymore gone too?
I've been lost for so long, depression lives feeling so blue.
Black and blue everything has become for me and others,
watching someone you love, killing themselves, darkness hovers.
Grieving from every part of my being to the deepest root,
so painfully paralyzing it is, to have to give him the boot.
Go away, boundaries, just trying to survive myself,
so simple yet so hard, people don't understand many use wealth.
Money, property and prestige can't fill the hole inside from losses,
the loss of many dreams a mother has for her son, he tosses.
His life is his and mine is mine, yet to separate from each other,
this is the healthiest thing to do, but look he goes even further.
Farther and farther away into the pit of complete hell,
letting him into my heart hurts so bad I scream and yell.
Another overdose. many overdoses for such a young man,
birthing my son as a mother, I'm his biggest fan.
Holding your child dreaming, is the deepest form of love,
years later those dreams have died, I cry to the Lord above.
Powerless oh so powerless to save my very own son,
This son of mine is running so fast, he has no fun.
Running backwards is so hard to do, but this he does do,
extremely hard to turn around and know where to go too.
Scraping along the bottom never knowing, if he'll live day to day,
now happening for years and progressively gets worse I'd say.
So bottom, what is bottom for my son God, is he going to die?
He's already one of the walking dead, believe me this is no lie.
As a mother I will try my best to not walk his walk of the dead,
very hard to do sometimes for he is always in my mind, I dread.
Then theirs my other children abandoned, fearing for the one son,
unfair for those two children, they deserve a mother who has fun.
For me to have fun is the hardest thing to do, and why?
It is a mystery to me and others I so often just cry.
Do you see I've been the walking dead, an overdose of my own,
there are all kinds of overdoses I now have been shown.
Now can you see overdose, overdose is the walking dead?
there is no freedom, no sense of being, it is all dread.
Overdose of drugs, love and control, overdose of sadness,
bringing deep shame fueled highlighting our own badness.
Now what to do? surrender and just let go that is for sure,
Hoping once again not to CRASH with HOPE and pray for some definite cure.
Written by: © Kelle Marie Stavron, All rights reserved
June 24, 2007
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Adding your comment:
Dee
( this piece is very powerful and captures a lot of emotion. nicely done. 
