What a difficult
situation to be around one stoned.
It appears the
giggle has such a pattern
of uncontrolled
self-absorbing fun for oneself,
and desires for
everyone around
to be just as
medically happy.
I have been here
many times.
Other times with
drugs or alcohol,
medically
putting a stop to pain,
be it
emotionally or physically.
I, on the other
hand, am left
to see the real
world around the moment
and not really
having a clue
what to do or
how to make myself ‘happy’
about this
chemical change of behavior.
I pray. “God,
please keep this person safe.”
I then get hit
again with the words
of
happy-gone-sad
as it now
appears
I’m not willing
to play the same game.
So,
off goes the stoned
to find a better
playground to enjoy.
Why not take the
same plunge?
My heart hurts.
My mind travels
to past;
wandering about
in the cleanup
often required
from the intentions
not meaning to
go too far, but did.
The cover up and
need to try,
with all efforts,
to NOT look
different;
but the body is
in total response to drug.
Do I react?
Do I respond?
Do I humor the
fake
all-is-good
and
even-better-now
person before me?
The language is
marked
with blurred
mind talk.
The smile is
drunk with
come-join-me
kindness.
It sings its song…
“I once was troubled
but with this
drug,
I can love again.”
I feel lonely.
I am a-lone!
I can’t pass
over into this sensitive world.
My entire
insides cry
and yet I am
looked at as non-caring.
My breathing
declares a prayer
for all parties
associated with this event.
All who make the
steps
toward creating
this moment,
I ask for wisdom
to pour into future,
as now is
happening.
Lonely …
How do I regain
what gets stolen?
Nothing will
really be remembered
except I was
snippy
or unwilling to
join in.
Lonely …
