Content warning: The poem describes someone who is in recovery and experiences depression.
Drew Watson is 35 years old. Raised in Kensington, he grew up with his four brothers and father. Watson had a lot of free, unsupervised time, so he started rapping and writing poetry at 12 years old. Writing poetry became a hobby and outlet to help him cope with his substance use disorder. This poem is about Watson, who is in recovery, and how he feels waking up in the morning and taking a walk to cope. It describes what he sees and how he feels about what he’s been doing to himself. And, he writes, the feeling of wanting to die because of how much “this little blue bag” has total control of his mind and body.
What to do?
Well, I saw you walking this way
A ghostly spectre
With an angel face and a bunch of
bags wrapped with tiny rubber
bands that were here to stay
You saw me in a horrid state
A desperately sick, fallen soldier
Who needed to be saved
Walking past beautifully run-down
girls looking for a date
But you can’t save
What doesn’t want to be saved
It’s a fine line we walk
Nothing you can do to change my
mind
I’m feeling low and want to be high
and oh so numb
Well, it can’t be this fentanyl
Has me where I’m supposed to be
Your best bet
Is to stay away from me
Like out of date currency
Worth nothing to nobody
I walk a fine line and slowly pass the
time
Never saw a cloud that was silver
lined
I’m quickly running out of time
To piece together
My fractured mind
This little blue bag
Is definitely death’s design
Editors: Zari Tarazona, Claire Wolters, Siani Colón / Designer: Henry Savage
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