They look at me as if I've lost my mind when I tell them what I've been doing.
And maybe I did lose myself somewhere between deadlines and sleepless nights,
but honestly why can't they see that I'm better now?
I chose between two evils, yes-
smoking
or suicide.
Now,
which one is really the devil?
Their disappointment cuts into me when I see their eyes because I truly believe that I am happier now.
Isn't that what matters?
Isn't that more than what I had before- nothing?
I won't say that I'm close to okay but between
a pipe
and a blade,
there's really no choice.
I choose my poison but at least it's better than the pills I took as I tried
to drift to sleep and forget the world,
to stop seeing the scene that played out in my head of a peaceful face and a pool of red.
So what's the problem?
I'm still a straight A student,
I still play a sport,
I still have a job,
I still have a social life.

Why do they keep looking at me as if I lost my mind?
I think I'm finally finding it when the smoke trails upward.