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Why You Overdosed

Lori Lynne Armstrong

Look now to the two tables at opposite corners of the café. Two women with hair beginning to gray sit with empty cups. A soft, unfelt breeze lifts and releases strands around their temples. They do not know each other; perhaps they will someday. Today it is only their mind’s voices that blend.
  
Why You Overdosed
 
Because I didn’t remember
to feed your goldfish when you forgot
you found it belly up
and you cried  
 
​​​​​​​Because I always fed your goldfish
​​​​​​​kept all your pets alive
​​​​​​​and you didn’t get the consequences
​​​​​​​of your actions
 
Because I didn’t read to you
every night no matter what
I let fatigue win sometimes
your brain went unnourished
​​​​
​​​​​​​Because I read to you every night
but I read all the wrong books
or didn’t do the voices well enough
to make you love them
 
​​​​I know it was me
​​​​I know I must have failed
​​​​I brought you to this world
​​​​but I couldn’t keep you here
 
Because I wasn’t stern enough
let you get away with stuff
didn’t give enough chores
you learned no self-discipline
​
​​​​​​​Because I was too rigid
​​​​​​​made you work too hard
​​​​​​​set standards that made you
​​​​​​​ripe for rebellion

Because I was sick and depressed
fighting my own misery
and didn’t win often enough
to give you all you needed
​
​​​​​​​Because I was healthy and vital
​​​​​​​enjoying my life and my friends
​​​​​​​and in these selfish pleasures
​​​​​​​I must have neglected you
 
​​​​It must have been me
​​​​my love was defective
​​​​too weak to guard you
​​​​too dim to show the way
 
Because I followed the advice
of the red book on the store shelf
that said listen to us
or see your child suffer
 
​​​​​​​Because I obeyed
​​​​​​​the bright blue book beside it​
​​​​​​​that said do as we say
​​​​​​​to prevent some dark fate
 
Because we were poor
(which was somehow my fault)
you struggled with school
while I worked full-time
 
​​​​​​​Because we were rich
​​​​​​​and I did homeschooling
​​​​​​​was too involved
​​​​​​​kept you too sheltered
​​​​​​​
​​​​I gave you bad genes
​​​​I made the wrong choices
​​​​if I’d just done better
​​​​you’d be here today
​​​
Because I threw you out at twenty
when you sold my laptop for drug money
tried the “tough love” thing
I was wrong

Because I let you stay
​​​​​​​terrified you’d be on the streets
​​​​​​​tried to be patient
​​​​​​​I was wrong
 
Because I couldn’t pay for rehab
you had to go to cheap ones
and said they were disgusting
and you’d never stay
 
​​​​​​​Because I paid for rehab
​​​​​​​in nice places, again and again
​​​​​​​sometimes you stayed
​​​​​​​for a while anyway
 
​​​​Now trying to find
​​​​the reasons I failed
​​​​gives me something to do
​​​​in a life without you.
​


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Lori Lynne Armstrong writes poetry and prose from her experiences as a scientist, a mother, a counselor, a mental patient, and a drug addict. Her first book, the memoir Someday I Will Not Be Ashamed, will be available on Amazon in May of 2023. Her essays and news are available in her blog at lorilynnearmstrong.com.
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Read the Next Poem: "How Does Grief Begin," Sina Chau-Pech

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  • Home
  • Archives
    • Volume One, Winter 2022
    • Volume Two, Spring 2023
    • Volume Three, Summer 2023
  • Poetry
  • Prose
  • Video
  • Art
  • Submissions
  • About Us
  • Contact Us
  • The Scribbler