|Substance| - "Torn" [1/11]

As I embarked onto my second year of school I decided to write more as a form of expressing my emotions rather than writing about the world around me.

This piece is a fusion of those two worlds as I decided to abstain from substances and logged the reactions.

The themes strewn through this poem predicate the poems I would write in the future.

"Torn"

I find myself in an unfamiliar yet familiar room

Coughs reverberate through the air

As I examine my hazy surroundings

They say the feeling of getting high is resounding

But I have never felt more grounded

 

There my body lays on a dinky couch

With complete strangers all “connected” through…

What? What are we all doing in this room?

This doom and gloom is approaching at lightspeed

As bowls are packed and motivation is sacked

 

I love it, but I hate it

The comradery but the rotting me

The psychoanalytic thought but the burning pot

I want to break free but breaking free means

No one will see me

 

A person trying to scratch out of the smoky void

A person trying to avoid the future that presents itself constantly

Honestly, why do we do it? Is it the “getting lit” or the eternal sit

On that dinky couch that leads nowhere

 

I need air, not full of THC but filled with likeminded refugees of trees

To be released from the pangs of loneliness and to embraced by genuine friends

When will this pain end?

 

It ends with the lowering of a casket

So why even bother not smoking gas and getting lit?

Because I hate this fuzz and fuck these nugs

Man oh man, I hate drugs