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Two Bottles of Pills
Two bottles of pills
I found them in the van
Hidden at the bottom
Of a container of wipes
Two bottles of pills
That had been refilled
Refilled four days
Before my brother-in-law
Died
I sat there
Holding one of the bottles
In my hand for several minutes
Oxycodone 15 milligrams
90 tablets
Is what the label read
There were only 39
Left
Out there somewhere
I knew there was a man
A “doctor”
Who had written these prescriptions
In so many way
A man
Who had loaded the weapon
That took my brother-in-law’s life
I sat there in this van
At night
Holding this bottle in my hand
And I cried
I cried
Because a life was taken
Far too soon
He was two years younger than me
Had a wife and a son
A son who had just come home from the hospital
Who had gone through hell himself
Now a husband and father was gone
I also cried
Because somewhere deep inside me
There came a voice
That said
“You could take these pills home with you
You live in pain
All the time
You need them”
I’ve heard this voice before
Twice in my life
On two separate instances
I had fought for my life
Undergone pain
Very few people can ever begin to imagine
During both of these times
I needed these pills
Wanted these pills
To keep my life together
Each time
I used them for several months
Both times
I ended up having to fight
To finally break free
Yes
For a few minutes
I sat holding a bottle of pills
Crying because I knew that the voice was still there
Knowing that if I did give in
I would certainly find a way
An excuse to take one of these pills
And later
An excuse to take more
But I knew where this road leads
I took the pills inside
And gave them to my sister
She might find a way
Somehow
To use these as a weapon
A weapon against the man
Who loaded these bottles in the first place
And I knew
She loved me enough
To understand
Understand why they could not come home
With me
Ed Roberts 11/15/13
(For Marty)
Two bottles of pills
I found them in the van
Hidden at the bottom
Of a container of wipes
Two bottles of pills
That had been refilled
Refilled four days
Before my brother-in-law
Died
I sat there
Holding one of the bottles
In my hand for several minutes
Oxycodone 15 milligrams
90 tablets
Is what the label read
There were only 39
Left
Out there somewhere
I knew there was a man
A “doctor”
Who had written these prescriptions
In so many way
A man
Who had loaded the weapon
That took my brother-in-law’s life
I sat there in this van
At night
Holding this bottle in my hand
And I cried
I cried
Because a life was taken
Far too soon
He was two years younger than me
Had a wife and a son
A son who had just come home from the hospital
Who had gone through hell himself
Now a husband and father was gone
I also cried
Because somewhere deep inside me
There came a voice
That said
“You could take these pills home with you
You live in pain
All the time
You need them”
I’ve heard this voice before
Twice in my life
On two separate instances
I had fought for my life
Undergone pain
Very few people can ever begin to imagine
During both of these times
I needed these pills
Wanted these pills
To keep my life together
Each time
I used them for several months
Both times
I ended up having to fight
To finally break free
Yes
For a few minutes
I sat holding a bottle of pills
Crying because I knew that the voice was still there
Knowing that if I did give in
I would certainly find a way
An excuse to take one of these pills
And later
An excuse to take more
But I knew where this road leads
I took the pills inside
And gave them to my sister
She might find a way
Somehow
To use these as a weapon
A weapon against the man
Who loaded these bottles in the first place
And I knew
She loved me enough
To understand
Understand why they could not come home
With me
Ed Roberts 11/15/13
(For Marty)
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Two Bottles of Pills
Two Bottles of Pills