I pass back
smoking dark not black
more like blue
smoking memories of you
i inhale the breath of pain
exhale the pain of breathing
this sting has taught me
smoking does not alleviate hurt
it stores it away
hidden until you come back down
like you're collecting your bags
after a night out on the town
you drag your bags home
holding your breath
so you can roll another lie
to ease your distress
and you burn with the rest
sneak out of your home
borrow money from your brother
you're starting to act just like your mother
you find a spot you can call your own
and smoke up your loud
just to sit on some clouds
within a few hours you are back where you started
wondering why the drugs look dark
not quite black
but more or less blue
they have become a part of you.