hacking on the soot & tar in my once youthful lungs, spitting up reminisce of last nights puff puff pass, my thoughts wander into uncharted territories of my endless mind. my little feet pound on the sun bleached road, trying to get away from some repressed cognition my conscience fought so hard to dispose of. behind me, you trailed with snarky contortion to your face. "no. I will not commemorate this fantasy." but your polluted extremities intertwine with mine, as you drag me on one of your endangerments. I attain the vodka bottle from beneath my bed, only to be used on special occasions like this one.
-I don't believe in god, but god damn I was looking for you in the bottom of that bottle.
r.r
