Dear son

Our gift from God, our beautiful baby

Is now running around, homeless and crazy.

We don’t want to go in public anymore.

We want to stay hidden behind closed doors.

Everyone knows what your doing and people look at me and blame.

We did the best we could raising you, so why do we carry shame?

How do we not feel responsible, for watching you slowly die.

We were supposed to protect you, but you chose to get high.

Now we fight about what we should have done and do.

We assume responsibility when the responsible one is you.

We can’t talk about you to our friends because they label you a junkie.

Tracy told us you called her trying to scam her for money.

We cry most nights together praying for you, son.

We cry for hours wondering what is it we’ve done?

If we could take your place we would and free you from your hell.

Unfortunately it doesn’t work like that so we will continue to pray you get well.

We just don’t understand, why can’t you just stop.

Your life is in shambles but you just continue to cop.

We used to watch you play and giggle when you were a little boy

A child so full of life, turned into a hollow man with no joy.

Sometimes we argue with each other, we try to make it someone’s fault.

We don’t understand any of this and this pain just never seems to hault.

Dear mom and dad

I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.

I know these words coming from my mouth have lost all their value.

If you could see the pain I carry but can’t express, if you only knew.

I love both of you beyond comprehension, I’m just to sick to show it.

I’ve lost me in this battle, my only conscious thought is one more hit.

I don’t come around any more because I see the pain on your faces.

I have no home anymore, I just wonder to different places.

I know how you miss who I used to be.

I miss the little boy too, the one I can no longer see.

I know this is hard for you to hear but suicide consumes me.

I see the pain I cause the family and I can’t seem to get free.

I’m just alone.

No home.

No emotion.

Like in the middle of the ocean.

I feel so out of place in my own skin

I’m locked in a prison that I put me in.

Please find it in your heart to love me just a little longer.

One day I’ll break these chains and come out even stronger.

I will need compassion, please, not judgment and scorn.

I have to relearn how to live, I have to be reborn.

One day you’ll look at me and be proud of your son.

One day you’ll look at me and see the battles I have won.

One day you’ll understand why God chose this path for me.

One day I’ll sail around and rescue others lost at sea.

One day I’ll be that man I look on with envy

Today I’ll be a man living completely free.

~Tyler E Mains
Clean since 4/14/11