Inhaling the smoke,
my ****** *** imagined
it being tattooed under
my skin.
I thought if I cut my wrist
clouds of THC would flow
out instead.
I leaned against her, cold,
thinking I'd fall into the
street and have it engulf
me. I swam in the gravel
until she moved and I
snapped back into my body.
Accelerating too fast, I fall
into myself in the carseat
and flying forward with
the break and I was out
of my head again.
And I'm thinking about you
now as the music flies by so
fast it slides over
my ears.
How the last time you grabbed
me like you needed me
was when you ****** me on
a picnic table, ****** in a park
around midnight.
And I remember why I didn't
need *** when I was with you.
You alone gave me short term
memory, made everything feel
smooth. I didn't need a
drug to make the sunrise
beautiful. Not when I could wake
up and turn around in bed
and have your arms to fall into.
Sounds moving to me like
clouds fogging my eyesight.
Pulling me like you did.
Deep vibrations crawling into
my spinal cord.
Shrieking pricking my finger
tips to see me bleed.
Poisoning my body to say
I've lived.
I still feel my skin
crawling from those
extended release beads.
Throat burning from
the pack I smoked just
last night.
The burns on my arm from
when I was too wiped out
to notice my melting flesh.
My skin still remains
liquid. Smoke leaking
through and I have
become a crater.
I have become paper.
Maybe I am on fire
and that's why my head
is still full of smoke
Why I can feel everything.
Why I can see every particle of
dust just as lost as me.
Maybe I am just
air, and that's why
I'm afraid of you touching me.
Your hand will go through my
stomach, touch my spine.
But you will find I have
no backbone.
Just these titanium bars
That tried to straighten
me, make me stand taller.
Tried to fix me.
I learned to grow like a vine.
Like poison ivy I am
smoke creeping through your veins
being tattooed into your DNA.
I learned to grow like a ****.
Wild flowers are weeds aren't they?
Maybe that's why they call me one.
Explains why everything around
me is now dead.
Wildfires are disastrous
but I've heard I shine like one.
Maybe I am harvesting
Everyone's life to make mine
better and longer.
They see beauty in my thinning
addicted body.
Maybe that's why when I was
high, I prayed to God as
the sun lit the road on fire.
I said I didn't think I'd ever seen
anything die so
gracefully.
I haven't been sober in weeks, and all my poetry now is just this. Weird words thrown together and called metaphors.