senses: smell

She sells antipathy in every joint she rolls
When she walked over to the end of the street and entered the little store
Eyes raking for some barbeque sauce but the nose
Detected the marijuana
At the tip of her fingers was wrapped a wad of cash
(Earned by explosion)
Just happened to slip by to hold onto something much more rejuvenating
To her
To her senses
To her repugnance
The stale hot air resonated a shrillness coming from her heart
Repititiveness brought not the hair on the nape
To lay still
As she got to that which she was hooked
A conscious decision, a cruel nook
Back home she threw the plastic of jewels
So careless in her stride
Her home – a dump of invaluables
Herself being one voiced her pride
There was a stench of misery and hatred underlying what poverty cost
Her anger was directed to a calm that bust
She brought out the necessities the room had witnessed
Haphazard ingredients cooked to set alight
The fire inside her
Surrounding her
A miasma so pungent and distant
From what happiness smells of
The scrunched weed reached inside the nails of a hand she commanded
And the first puff she took exhaled destruction in the air
Screaming, you motherfucker
An idea it was so ludicrous to believe
That enmity had begotten even more from her
That smoke emitted charges
Desperate in the face of hope
But she continued living on the very smoke
That made her nose numb to all
But marijuana
And him
Her escape was not addiction but freedom from the stench
Of the air the greens spread
Right outside the window that won’t budge, jammed in
So maybe, life was a blunder
She chose to smoke with
Cursing without chagrin

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