He used to care for my wounds like each one was too fragile to touch.
Now he just looks at each scar in disgust.
His eyes once soft for my pain, have come to grow cold.
It’s as if to him, my suffering has grown old.
He used to lay with me each morning and trace his fingers on my skin.
Now patience has become sin.
He would always use his words to ease my darkened thoughts.
But now when I’m lost, he just shuts himself off.
My anxiety and depression used to be met with understanding and love.
But after 8 years, I guess he’s done all that he could of...
The day he asked for my hand was one of the happiest days of my life.
Now each day is met with strife.
Each thing I use to say to him would be listened to with care.
Now it’s like I’m not even there.
We used to communicate without a problem or fight.
But now every word is said with a bite.
Each cut that I made on my skin would lead to an empathetic kiss.
Now each one adds distance.
His heart was so pure but now it’s so hard to access.
Where did my love go that I used to know best?
And will it be like this for the rest?

"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 ******, 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 **** 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

Do you still look for me in your new girlfriends? Do you still seek my eyes in theirs? Do you still feel my lips when you kiss her and hear my voice when they speak? Did you cut your hair because I loved it so much? Do you still celebrate Tuesday as “*** Night”? Do you still look for me, when you ask them out?

Do you still blame your father for our demise? Do you still think your hands are capable to do as he did? Did you marry her and divorce her because you were afraid of yourself? Do you still talk about our first time? And do you in a negative or a positive light? Are you changing yourself because you think you’ll finally be happy? Or because you won’t look so much like him anymore.... Do you miss me at all?

Do you still feel hate and heartbreak when you hear my name? Do you hear my name when our birthday comes around? Do you take your clothes off because I made you feel *****? Do you still collect lovers and partners like the hundreds of beads you make your jewelry with? Do you still fill your body with healthy choices but unhealthy people?

Do you wish we never happened? Do you miss your bruises because your mother is now dead? Do you hate me for wishing you were free of her when she was still alive? Do you still eat sushi and think of me? Do you still listen to the playlist I made you? Do you still cry that you lost your best friend because of me? Do you wish we had fought our feelings and that you would still be hers? Do you still have the letters that I wrote you? The poems? The drawings? Do you still have that power ranger blanket? Or did you destroy that with the rest of my memories?

Are you happy now?

He tells me that I’m beautiful.
That I’m good at what I do.
He tells me that I’m worth every cent while the clock ticks to two.
The mattress is up against the window.
The door is locked x3.
I sit and watch as the smoke floats and drifts around me.
I use my magic words.
And I do my hair just right.
I’ll make a bunch of money if I can make it through the night.
The drugs make it bearable.
So my body hardly feels.
This is my reality now. This is what is real.
Makeup painted on my face
And Fishnets up my thighs.
I tell him that I need him, right to his buggin eyes.
His pipe and rock are on the floor.
So I watch where I walk.
When he gets it in his system I can hardly even talk.
The paranoia eats his mind
As the clock ticks to 4.
He locks us in the bathroom, so no one can see us anymore.
The last of his drugs are gone
As the hour comes to 5
He tells me that I’m beautiful. That I make him feel alive.
He drops me off at home
And thanks me for what I’ve done.
“Last night was great.” He says with a smile,
“I Can’t wait for the next one!”