loss of control can be beautiful
when you're problems are gone
in a cloud of smoke-
or when the burn in your throat
matches the fire in your eyes
as you watch it all fall apart
in beautiful intoxication:
"I'm just having fun,"
the words fall cooly from a
well trained mouth,
grown accustomed to
hiding, justifying,
afraid to admit that maybe,
just maybe,
you are in too deep.