In too many drinks, deeper and deeper i tread
The room becomes pressurized with the flow of alcohol fueled, anxiety driven young people.
I cant stand the choking, the haze that i am in
I push my way out of the crowd as if hiding in plain sight
That wasn’t my scene, no director was telling me to restart that one.
As i walk towards the dimly lit bench hidden by a hill
I open up my package of cigarettes,
Flick open the old lighter that my grandfather gave me
The one that saw so many tragedies
It has a scar that runs from the top of the lighter all the way down its spine
You need to turn the flint a couple of times for it to light
A lights so warm you forget of the troubles
I guess it takes after its owners.
The tobacco touches the tip of the torch,
And the crackle of the chemicals cringes my lungs
but its how i breath,
its how i fly
I know this is how i end up in the ground unannounced
But the smoke clears my mind, relieves what i can not hold in
Maybe in a cloud of uncertainty,
With the booze bringing in the nightmares
i am just trying to smoke them out.