Bidding our time

I used to think my dreams had faded like smoke from cigars and to search for a hope I used to stare at the stars without reaching any kind of a clear answer. I used to feel daze from the chaos born from my own thoughts and I ate my own creations as an earthly Saturn, spit blood like a second range boxer and tore my flesh from my bones. Darkness was lit by candles until they burnt the remains of the day. I wrote and wrote just to realize I had a bigger inner urge for writing and then reread seeing nothing was the way I thought it would be and be blinded by red tears.

I have sit too many times smoking the last cigarette and watching the smoke go by until I came to be who I am today, until I got some peace of mind to thank or forgive those who deserve greatfulness or forgiveness, and to forget those who should be forgotten as a bad movie, a bad book, a bad song, as a long passed bitter memory.

Now, here I am to stay. Will you dare to swallow the seeds of my weed?