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Fighting Opioid Addiction and PTSD With Poetry

Poem of the Week

Somebody’s Son It’s late and quiet in the ER tonight,In spite of the hot summer breeze andThe full Hunter’s moon,So soon that changed.
Emergency lights started to flash,The speaker crackledCode blue, ER waiting room, code blue,We calmly, not so calmly, started to do what we do,You bring the crash cart, please set up a ventilator,And off we went.
He was on the floor,2,3,4 up onto a stretcher and back through the door,Respiratory arrest, overdose I’d say,That’s what we see the most these days,
Start a line, D5 is fine, and narcan stat times two, I’ll intubate,He’s 60 palp - he’s in Vtach!Let’s shock, 300, get back, clear,350, clear, one more time, clear,He’s flat line, hit him in the chest with epi, again, no pulse,There’s nothing else we can do,We were too late.
Then, as fast as it started,“Call it,” we were done,Bad drugs,Somebody’s son,Time of death,A quarter to one.

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Somebody’s Son First Name OnlyMy Heart StoppedHer Future Was BrightRussia Was Not Named Studio 54I’m Still Alive StigmaWhen We Weren’t Killing To Kill a ChildHe Looked a Little Like ElvisThat Fucking WarAll Sorts of CreepsNot a GameSo Over-PrescribedThese Kid’s Lives
He’s a Dog of WarI Wonder What ForA Friend was DeadI'm Dependent Not An Addict AssholeAs We Begin AgainA Good WifeA Chance to MendI’ve Decided to ThriveCaregiverThe Art of WarTo Try AgainPTSDThe Rest of My LifeThe Death of I27.6 Per DayI’m Feeling Alive

Fighting Opioid Addiction and PTSD With Poetry

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As We Begin Again

My son is six,I pick him up from CPS today,I will forever be sorry, we caused so much pain,His mother left when he was three,Me, I put a needle in my vein.
We robbed his early childhood,But that was then, and this is now,I’m clean one year, I’m nervous but good,I have a place we can call home, And for eight months, I have a job I like.
I can’t undo the things I’ve done,I know I need to build his trust,I’m nervous cause I have one shot,It’s a whole lot for the both of us,But finally I am stepping up.
He so deserves unconditional love,And above all else to feel secure,I’m ready, excited, and I’m so sureWe are two who will celebrate as one family,So we begin again as father and son.

My Heart Stopped

I am eleven, my brother’s fifteen,He’s using bad drugs, he has this blank stare,We have nowhere to hide, we are always in fear,Our father’s a drunk, he’s abused us for years,My brother is zoned, and he just doesn’t care. The fight tonight was really loud,My brother protected me whenever he could,We should have run away with Mom,Something crashed as it hit the ground,Then suddenly, there was no sound. The quiet was broken, pop pop, pop pop,I came out of my room and my heart stopped,My brother had a gun at his side,He looked up, cold eyes, he started to cry,Our father is bleeding, we sat watching him die.

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Lorem Ipsum Dolor Sit Amet

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Lorem Ipsum Dolor Sit Amet

Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipisicing elit, sed do eiusmod tempor incididunt ut labore et dolore magna aliqua. Ut enim ad minim veniam, quis nostrud exercitation ullamco laboris nisi ut aliquip ex ea commodo consequat. Duis aute irure dolor in reprehenderit in voluptate velit esse cillum dolore eu fugiat nulla pariatur. Excepteur sint occaecat cupidatat non proident, sunt in culpa qui officia deserunt mollit anim id est laborum. Sed ut perspiciatis unde omnis iste natus error sit voluptatem accusantium doloremque laudantium, totam rem aperiam veritatis et quasi architecto beatae vitae dicta sunt explicabo.
As We Begin AgainMy son is six,I pick him up from CPS today,I will forever be sorry, we caused so much pain,His mother left when he was three,Me, I put a needle in my vein.
We robbed his early childhood,But that was then, and this is now,I’m clean one year, I’m nervous but good,I have a place we can call home, And for eight months, I have a job I like.
I can’t undo the things I’ve done,I know I need to build his trust,I’m nervous cause I have one shot,It’s a whole lot for the both of us,But finally I am stepping up.
He so deserves unconditional love,And above all else to feel secure,I’m ready, excited, and I’m so sureWe are two who will celebrate as one family,So we begin again as father and son.
My Heart StoppedI am eleven, my brother’s fifteen,He’s using bad drugs, he has this blank stare,We have nowhere to hide, we are always in fear,Our father’s a drunk, he’s abused us for years,My brother is zoned, and he just doesn’t care. The fight tonight was really loud,My brother protected me whenever he could,We should have run away with Mom,Something crashed as it hit the ground,Then suddenly, there was no sound. The quiet was broken, pop pop, pop pop,I came out of my room and my heart stopped,My brother had a gun at his side,He looked up, cold eyes, he started to cry,Our father is bleeding, we sat watching him die. A Good WifeMy only son is dead,An overdose took his life,Then his dad left,Cause he blamed me for his death.
I thought I was a good wife,i was a good mom, i thought,Now I’m raging mad,I am worthless, and I am completely distraught.
Fuck the Sacklers,They should burn in hell,McKesson and J&J as well,Our politicians are assholes,Narcissistic fools who play a game,Searching only for fortune,And reveling in their sordid fame.Fuck them too!I’m lost, I really don’t know what to do. Her Future Was BrightHer mobile phone sounds a soft alarm,The window filters the morning sun,The coffee pot is awake and hot -The usual way she starts her day.As a West Point grad, her future was bright,But the Afghanistan war got in her way.
She slept last night, no horrible dreams,No bombs, or guns or blood or screams,She's still not moving from her bed,The coffee's cold, to old to drink,There are pills scattered around her sink,Oh God she's not asleep, she's dead.
A Chance to MendOne million overdose deaths,Meth and fentanyl are here to stay,It's clear, chasing the supply side does not work,As 100,000 people died just last year!
Minding the challenge butFinding a way -Harm reduction is first,Pay attention to mental health,A multimodal approach - gives a better chance to mend,And a prayer - a better chance to live.Then tell politicians to help get this done,Because it's way past time for this crisis to end.
I’ve Decided to ThriveMy recovery is pain, My suffering doesn’t have to be, it is.I am a soldier at war with myself – But it now gives me purpose.
And recharging my battery Matters to me now,Stay in the moment, Mindfulness helps me get there -Where I am really alive,I’ve decided to thrive.
You Don't KnowI see war on TV,The gore, the reality, I read,I know how it must be.
You don’t know, no matter the gore,You don’t see limbs ripped off and feelHuman tissue splattered in your face,
Your brother down in mud and blood,With a permanent place in my dreams.You don’t know.
CaregiverA caregiver's life changes,Each day arranged around the person who needs them,Existence becomes the experience of someone else,But sympathy finds empathy, andSupport finds spiritIn life, how it is,Not how it should be. The Art of WarThere is no art of war,SunTzu what were you thinking?War is not a chess game,And I am not a pawn.
It's dawn,I am awake with painIn the legs that I don’t have.There is no art of war.
Don’t NarxCare Me Don’t NarxCare me, leave me out in the cold,You can’t see my pain.And only real pills are safe, no TNTKeeps me in the tracks on the dirt road. You say no, but I’m hot and I hurt,So I’m forced to decide,It’s not the best choice,But I’ll find a street source.
To Try AgainLast years’ resolution was not to die,I tried twice – both times my life was savedBy my wife - already three months clean,But she stayed.
This years’ resolution is to live,To forgive ourselves’, to apologize to others,To thank god for the chanceTo try again.

PTSDThere’s me, andThere’s me with PTSD;Freres d’armes.
Wanting to forget,Wanting to forgive myself,Wanting to live the life I was ‘sposed to have.

You Don’t Know My PainMy pain cannot be measured,Your validated instruments don’t know me.They don’t see me cry, orIgnore my kids, who need moreThan I can give.I am barely living.
You don’t know my pain.
Summer’s ArrivedSummer’s arrived in this east end beach town,The ocean is warm,The surf is soft,The sun’s shining down.
But no one didn’t die today,Beyond opioids, its overdose,The cost of life the most ever.The sun’s shining down.
My Life is So Blessed I was playing ball,I broke my wrist,College scholarship, I hoped,Nope, my doc gave me Oxy. After two weeks I knew,I felt like king of the street,The only thing I liked to do was drugs,School started to suck, I was beat. Dad said I have no right to be depressed,He said my life is so blessed, andI just need a job to get back on track,He told the cop I was a good kid,But the cop disagreed.How embarrassed dad was, and is.
The Rest of My Life Eight years I lost -Cost me family and friends.Cost me so much,Seems like such a waste. It was finally worth the shakes,Worth the pain,My brain-fog is gone,My eyes are clear. It been a year of living clean,And every day I pass the test,Is one more dayOf the rest of my life.
I Smell Like DeathI have no joy,I have no peace,I sleep in my car,I hang in the street,I smell like death,Meth rots my teeth,
I look like hell.Who can I blame?I don’t care,I’m high again.
The Death of II sold my kids bikeFor a spike in my vein,My wife threw me out,In spite of my pain.I stole food from my mom,I have a right to eat,And nobody cares that I live in the street.It’s not my fault,It isn’t fair.
I’m alone, I stare into the dark sky.I think it’s time for I to die.
PTSD - Cause I LivedMy memories are all bad,My brain circuits are fucked,I’m sad,I’m struggling with loss and guilt - cause I lived.
I keep giving a damn,I keep trying,I need helpCause I feel like dying.
27.6 Per DayI’m finally numb, My pain is gone, I’m safe, I’m dead, I put a bullet in my head. I’m Feeling AliveWeed for Warriors saved my life,Cannabis as medicine helps me endure,Serving meals to the hungry Has been part of my cure,
I can feel joy, I’ve found love, And I’m feeling alive,With my brothers-in-armsAgain by my side.
Christmas and PTSDI don’t remember what Christmas was,Or what it’s ‘sposed to be.Bright lights raise the hairs on my neck,In my bed,Red splatters the walls -My nights are never silent or holy,I wish Christmas mattered to me.

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