Looking Up

Looking up through oak and pine branches into a clear blue morning sky, with a pale half moon visible

Written by, Anonymous

When I was high
I looked up at the stars
Each time I pulled in
On that little pipe that got clogged up
And then I cleaned it with alcohol
Boil it in saltwater
Boiling cloves cinnamon and nutmeg to try to cover up the smell
Dumping the boiling water in the alley of the back patio

I miss looking up at the stars every day
But I do not miss burning my finger with a crappy lighter
And coughing and hacking up a storm at the quietest moment
In the theater

I do not miss carrying around green mints in my pocket to pop
Them in when my throat would start to tingle
I do not miss hacking up loogies in the sink each morning and eve when I brushed my teeth

I do not miss the hazy gaze and foggy way I looked at people
Avoiding conversations and exiting early
I always exited early

I do not miss feeling shame for the smell of weed on my breath
Or my red bloodshot eyes
I do not miss that mary jane- that made me delusional and in a private bubble of shame
Stuck in time
Looking at the stars and the full moon

Today I look up to the stars
The trees and the blue sky
I inhale deeply and exhale
Weed free

Published in A New Leaf – September 2026

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