Public Health Poetry: I Sit Here Alone

Today I sit here alone,
With no one to tilt me over,
I sit here alone,
Where no one needs me or wants me,
I sit here alone,
Being blamed for your demise,
Little do they know I grieve you too,
Because without you,
I sit here alone,
I don’t make anyone’s day better,
I sit here alone,
And I think of you,
I can still see the sweat on your forehead,
The stress on your mind,
And death on your eyes,
I remember how hesitant you were
That fateful first time,
Looking down at me,
Wondering if you should or you shouldn’t,
Then you took the leap of faith,
And you landed in your grave,
I remember how often you came back,
Hesitation turned to desperation,
Like a moth to a flame,
Wanting more than before,
You wished to feel unchained,
Not just okay,
And you knew I could help you,
Now my usefulness turned to loneliness,
And I sit here alone.

Poet's Notes

This poem is one that I wrote about two years after a close friend of mine died of an overdose. It’s written from the perspective of a bottle of pills. It took me a while to truly understand the situation, the complexity of addiction, his loss of life at such a young age, his pain. Poetry is something that helped me cope, it gave me time to sit, and think. It gave me the space to empathize and fully understand his passing. I began to understand that his death wasn’t the pills' fault, it wasn’t his fault, or anyone's fault. It was just the way things were. Just another part of life. 

By: Najib Abbi