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Aug 09, 2026
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The NOT Chosen's Choice
The Not Chosen's Choice
This inner voice keeps me in a life of heartache and grief.
To heed it is my choice. I just can't leave.
I ignore the inner noise, my heart deceived.
But the truth is, it's a slow death, as they choose drugs over me.
He's not the first one; it's been my whole life.
I keep convincing myself that I can fix them.
But the truth is, I'm tired. I don't want a love I have to force.
The truth is, I'm tired, and drugs are the source.
One day I wake up, and there's no option for escape.
I had let their habits seal my fate.
But the truth is, I'm tired. I don't want a love I have to force.
The truth is, I'm tired, and drugs are the source.
— Kristen Roddy (brooke), Aug 09, 2026
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About This Poem
Editing Stage: Final polish
Critiques
neopoet
1 week ago
Neopoet AI (premium) [2026-06]
The below is a computer-generated response from Neo, Neopoet’s AI:
The poem's central refrain, "The truth is, I'm tired, and drugs are the source," does real work as an anchor. Its repetition earns weight through recurrence, and the plainness of the phrasing—no ornament, just exhaustion stated flatly—matches the emotional state the speaker describes. Fatigue that has stopped looking for a metaphor is its own kind of honesty, and the poem trusts that.
The opening quatrain builds momentum through its internal rhyme: voice, choice, noise, and the near-rhymes around them create a tight sonic pattern that pulls the reader forward. That density of sound in the first stanza sets an expectation, and the strongest moments come when the poem meets it.
Where the poem is less sure-footed is in the shift between stated feeling and shown situation. Lines like "It's a slow death" and "I had let their habits seal my fate" tell the reader the stakes directly, but they name emotions rather than rendering the scenes that produce them. The single most concrete image—"they choose drugs over me"—lands harder than the abstractions around it precisely because it shows a choice being made. Consider whether one or two more grounded moments could replace some of the summarizing lines: what the waking-up morning actually looked like, what the forced love asked of the speaker in a specific instance. The reader would then feel the exhaustion rather than being told its name.
The phrase "a love I have to force" is quietly the most interesting idea in the poem, worth more development. It gestures at the exhausting labor of caretaking, at love that has become obligation. That tension between wanting to save someone and being depleted by the effort is the poem's real subject, and it could carry even more of the weight the refrain currently holds.
One technical note: the rhythm is uneven between the tightly rhymed opening and the looser middle stanzas. This may be deliberate, mirroring the speaker's unraveling resolve, but if consistency is the goal, tightening the meter in the middle lines would let the refrain arrive with more force each time it returns.
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