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I don’t really want to remember you like this Screaming tortured and lost……in bottles of pills

But it hurts less, I think, Than remembering when you were happy here

In your early years
Before the “demons” struck

And drove you to fear your own mind
I remember you saying to me

“Mom…my head is so messed up”
As those tears filled your young adult eyes

And dripped down your cheeks

In those times leading up to your death When I raced against time

Trying to find you help and hope Because I knew I was losing you

At least this way I can rationalize
That you aren’t in “pain” anymore

I could never stand
To see you hurting, vulnerable and scared

Because I felt your pain and wanted so badly to fix it
But nobody seemed to care enough to see past your addictions & behaviours

Your true self and needs were denigrated due to bias & stigma

I miss you!

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