Addiction, II

Believe me I smoked; not just a little.  I went to town on that plant.


All the wasted years

All the tasted tears

Creating a terrible reality by

Smoking away all my fears.


But I quit; what now?

Pen and paper is a good start

A reloaded soul

shooting from the heart


Words spewed from thoughts absurd

Shouting out but never heard

Or listening


Turns out

A whisper was enough

Spoken to the right person, in the right fashion

Just spoken honestly, relax and



slow down



She asked

Room too crowded?

Is your sadness worth their happiness?


She told me


Just leave

No one’s forcing you to stay

You think it’s too late

Let me reiterate

You are free. Just leave.


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