intoxicated love affairs: symptoms and side effects

i'm allergic to weed. i love men who smoke. i am only loved by those who are high.

when i smoke i have reactions that last months with the small reward of but a couple hours of euphoria that turns sour before you know it. i love men who treat me as disposable, men who reek of drugs and lust, ones that will not love me in sobriety. 

i indulge in apathetic encounters with aggressive men, their taste will stick to the back of my throat like smoke from the roach of a joint, and i will inevitably suffocate me in desolation, something that no amount of coughing can chase away. 

perhaps in truth i just miss my baby, he rolled his joints with a precision that felt like love and kissed me with the kind of hunger that hoaxed me into believing in forevers. but his absence has existed longer than we ever did, and in my comedown i knew that.

and so, the way a younger me chased a high, i'll continue her tradition by following these men to the ends of the earth, knowing that they're only still walking to escape me. in my eternal pursuit of self-destruction i grasp onto my control of choice, the last concept of power i have left.

yet when all is said and done, forever means nothing to me. one day i'll stop chasing the smoke or it will stop chasing me. either way my joint has faded into ash, my high has washed away, and slumber is calling my name.