Your high-ness

Exhaling smoke, I stare at this pipe and ask why. Just why.. Why does this exist, why didn't I refuse when you asked me if I wanted to try it? Curiosity took over; my neurons are firing and I can't stop thinking about you. I tend to get excited when you skip through my thoughts, hoping you would trip and fall; never making an appearance again. 

This is addiction. This is my pain killer.

You are my heroin. You are my remedy.

You are the substitute for my trauma.

-s.s