You said you would come clean
But you kept falling into the pit
How long did you go on?
Falling

You said it was dark in the pit
But the party would be neat
The drink was good
Conforming

You heard the siren
I knew you did
I could feel numbness
Suffocating

You said you were sorry
Please breathe
Your face turned pale
Suffering

You said you loved me
I doubted
It was your addiction
Dying

You closed your eyes
I shut my heart
It was your last drink
Crying

You left me
I was lonely
Life without you
Empty

This poem was written based on a true story. A story, which I heard, or read about or perhaps, it actually happened to me. Or to a friend of mine. Whatever you would like to think of it, I would like to let you know that it was true.

Kevin was a decent, young man if you would just put his bad habits aside. He had been battling with drug addiction for a long period of time. It was blessed of him to have a very sweet, faithful girlfriend, Abby, whom he could love with all his heart and confide in without neither suspicion nor doubt. With her persuasion, encouragement, and strength, Kevin had been trying to quit drug – to come clean. He knew that the "pit" was dark, and he would like to get out of it – "clean".

One night, Kevin was invited to a party. Not the usual kind. A party with wild, young and confused people that do drugs as a recreational hobby. Some friends offered him a "drink", a drink that was spiked. He politely declined. Peer group pressure and he was outnumbered. And he conformed. Happily, he took the "drink" and he thought that was really "good", just an ordinary drink. What a mistake.

The party began to beat hard, blasting through the night. Everyone was high.  Without any warning, Kevin collapsed to the ground. The next thing he could hear was the "siren". Breathing became a difficult task. He could see lots of people surrounding him, people in white uniforms. Everything became vague and he could hardly see. The light was too bright for him, blinding him.

Frantically but weakly, he continued to search for a familiar face - Abby’s.

Out from the panicking crowd, Abby appeared. She stood there, without a word and without knowing what she had to do to bring him back to her. She looked down at him and she knew she would be missing him. She felt nothing but numbness, as if she could feel Kevin’s – struggling in vain for survival.

Tears started rolling down her cheeks unceasingly. Kevin breathed his last breath. And the door of her heart was slammed shut.

Abby: "I was mad at him for leaving me alone. For not battling hard against it. Each time he said that he loved me, I would tell him that if he did, he should quit it for me. For our sake and for our future. I doubted his love. I felt so sad. He didn’t know, I was addicted not to drugs, but to him. He was my cocaine. But it was too late, he had left me and I am left here dying alone….slowly and painfully….without my cocaine"