Teen Poetry Collections

This Time

by Marisa (age 17?)

I wake up in the morning, the sun is shining bright,
but all I can remember is how I got f__ked up
last night.
The air was fresh and clean, and
there was dew everywhere.
But I can barely walk or smell
because there is bud still in the air.
I reach over to my dresser and grab
a bowl for today and
think to myself it shouldn't be this way.
So I make a promise to myself that I won't
smoke the bud but just chill till another
day.
Sittin' here chillin' wit' my boys, watchin'
them smoke a blunt, and all I can think of
is just one puff.
So I take it, and smoke it till it's killed,
then get hella stupid, and actin' like a clown.
Here we go again. My high is coming
down.