Looking Up

Writen 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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