Stirring the pot,
Was a burial plot,
While I was smoking a lot,
Of what I never needed in a life full of murkier spots,
I’ve been busy trying to make a painting out of,
Instead of choosing to rot,
Inside of a self-made prison created by dirtier thoughts,
Washing away with every tear that I drop,
In good faith…
I know I write so much about marijuana,
But,
It’s my only way to keep distant from a poison I’ve never wanted.
How I came across it?
Is a mystery to myself while I think of sonnets,
I can jot down every night as I sing them aloud in,
Thought of every bud I was forced to keep stomping,
On a ground growing trees sprouting an abundance of knowledge,
Through an apple I can marvel at as I learn from God within…
To be married to a cheater,
Witnessing Mary Jane spend her time with so many others who try to treat her,
As heavenly as possible while burning that bridge with a lighter that heats her,
Enough to singe every window of opportunity you head towards with a heart bleeding by the liter,
Will only lead to divorce guaranteed to end in tragedy.
Raw emotions ricocheting off of walls incinerated by papers reminding you of a travesty,
You can see as a blessing in disguise…
Same way you dressed up a lie,
As an illusion with a woman you wine and dined,
In a dream you thought you’d never wake up from as it cascades below your crying eyes,
Is the same way you can bring to a close,
Conjured realities with a dying sigh,
Of relief you will never find unless,
You let the ringing go.
Her call in a mind only you can have control of no matter how rapid your tears flow…
m3l0dicverse 
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