PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Where is my bong? Where is my weed? I need my fix to fulfill my greed, its an addiction that cant be cured, its my happy place when i am scared. We all have ways of going in hiding, going away, covering ourself from everyone else, everyone who hurts, discourages, and especially curses. That is why i found myself my own happy place, to get away from all the frauds, the fake applauds, the liars and cheaters, the teases and tramps. Staring at the light in the lavalamp. My happiness up in smoke, no worries, no troubles, watching the bubbles on the wall, falling back on my bed, going away into another trance of almost being dead, seeing my wishful thoughts fly away in the smoke...