Thanks to the first hit (ROUGH DRAFT)

The inhale, quivers your lips
worries and problems all losing their grips.
By the time you return from this 'escape' to the beyond
I will be vapor, -poof-, gone.

I disappear in the chemical mist,
All because you couldn't resist
the devilish orange glow of the joint being lit.
I am no more, thanks to that first hit.

The exhale, blackens the lungs.
The laughter receeds among all of the 'friendly' tongues.
Cold silence, like stone.
In this filled room, you are all alone.

Alone, with this constant flow of tears,
your entire persona engulfed by anguish and fears.
No one to defend
this flood without end.
Not a safety net
for this plummeting feeling, regret.

And most of all, even the 'high' will desert you.
The whimsical colors will lose their imbalanced hue.

When reality finally sinks in,
and your problems begin getting under your skin

All of the drama in its different sizes and shapes
The abuse, suicides, break-ups, hatred and rapes,
I am dead, thanks to that first hit
I was the solution, to make all of those problems fit.