A bouquet of aroma,
flowers rolled up behind my ears
a blaze could break this silence.
I see through the past, into the shadows, and past the smoke.
Not a cloud in the sky.
Take me high..
Chiefin, but this tipi is the temple of my pride.
Im self conscious about my conscience.
As I inhale the self of this esteem,
My feet raise above the ground,
Kissing Mother Earth goodbye, as I am thanking God for her medicine, that temporarily cures everything.
I reach to grab a couple stars.
Ive puffed my bed of clouds, and now I shall lay in it.
Friends and kin are passers by,
Is it healthy to idolize a drug, because its ugliness is perceived as beauty?
Looking out from glossy eyes, into a smudge mirror,
I see my self, clearly, clear eyes, realize that clearly these real lies only deceive the outsiders.
The truth and the beauty are within, the pain.
Is it wrong to think Im loved?
I hold it in longer, and longer, and
The taste just seems to kiss my lips, so sweetly.
Do you know the feeling?
Do you feel the same?
When the stress gets thicker, as does the smoke.
Often I am the lone star, in Life’s game,
Does this make us teammates?
If true, I’ll assist you, then hit the Swish-er, and make it count