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.