---
Fentanyl…
a name that tastes like sorrow
even before it reaches the tongue.
The one thing
you must never touch—
for it is not a drug,
but a shadow
that slips beneath the door
and steals the light
right out of a soul.
It doesn’t roar.
It doesn’t rage.
It moves quietly,
coldly,
like winter crawling across skin
until all warmth is gone.
It takes the innocent,
the hurting,
the ones searching for a moment of peace—
and gives them silence instead.
And when I think of it,
my heart sinks
like a stone in deep water.
Because I’ve felt its pull.
More than once.
And it is not a choice—
it is an undertow.
A whisper saying, “Come closer,”
as it drags you
down
down
down
into a place
where breathing feels borrowed.
The pain of being without it
isn’t just pain—
it is a storm inside the bones,
a trembling of every memory,
a hollow hunger
that no food, no air, no prayer
can fill.
Withdrawals carve you open
like a dull blade—
slow,
merciless,
leaving you curled around yourself
hoping the next minute
won’t last as long as the last.
And the high—
God…
the high is a lie,
a thin flicker of light
that barely touches the darkness
before disappearing,
leaving you colder than before.
But the part that breaks you—
truly breaks you—
is watching those you love
fade as if made of smoke.
Their laughter thinning,
their eyes dimming,
their bodies turning into ghosts
while they’re still standing.
You reach for them,
your hands trembling,
your voice cracking,
but they keep slipping
and slipping
and slipping
like sand through shaking fingers.
There is no angel to intervene,
no final-hour miracle,
no soft voice saying,
“It’s going to be alright.”
There is only loss
that arrives like nightfall—
quiet,
inevitable,
leaving behind a world
that feels emptier
than you ever thought possible.
---
Fentanyl never apologizes
for the lives it steals.
It never returns
what it takes.
It leaves only shadows,
and love with nowhere to go,
and the unbearable weight
of wishing you could have saved
just one more soul…
©️scomeaux
Feb 16
Feb 16, 2026 at 2:52 AM UTC
---
Fentanyl…
a name that tastes like sorrow
even before it reaches the tongue.
The one thing
you must never touch—
for it is not a drug,
but a shadow
that slips beneath the door
and steals the light
right out of a soul.
It doesn’t roar.
It doesn’t rage.
It moves quietly,
coldly,
like winter crawling across skin
until all warmth is gone.
It takes the innocent,
the hurting,
the ones searching for a moment of peace—
and gives them silence instead.
And when I think of it,
my heart sinks
like a stone in deep water.
Because I’ve felt its pull.
More than once.
And it is not a choice—
it is an undertow.
A whisper saying, “Come closer,”
as it drags you
down
down
down
into a place
where breathing feels borrowed.
The pain of being without it
isn’t just pain—
it is a storm inside the bones,
a trembling of every memory,
a hollow hunger
that no food, no air, no prayer
can fill.
Withdrawals carve you open
like a dull blade—
slow,
merciless,
leaving you curled around yourself
hoping the next minute
won’t last as long as the last.
And the high—
God…
the high is a lie,
a thin flicker of light
that barely touches the darkness
before disappearing,
leaving you colder than before.
But the part that breaks you—
truly breaks you—
is watching those you love
fade as if made of smoke.
Their laughter thinning,
their eyes dimming,
their bodies turning into ghosts
while they’re still standing.
You reach for them,
your hands trembling,
your voice cracking,
but they keep slipping
and slipping
and slipping
like sand through shaking fingers.
There is no angel to intervene,
no final-hour miracle,
no soft voice saying,
“It’s going to be alright.”
There is only loss
that arrives like nightfall—
quiet,
inevitable,
leaving behind a world
that feels emptier
than you ever thought possible.
---
Fentanyl never apologizes
for the lives it steals.
It never returns
what it takes.
It leaves only shadows,
and love with nowhere to go,
and the unbearable weight
of wishing you could have saved
just one more soul…
©️scomeaux
