They stop me in funerals, in reunions and
say to me, “You did it. You broke the cycle”
My fingers twitch, a deep pit in my belly
A knife twists, the memory of her last words
With fentanyl-stained lips twisted into a smile
she kisses me one last time, a sharing of poison
As her breath leaves, a body with no brain
And I say, “But did she have to die?”