i shouldn't have pretended that
i didn't like for you to get high.
i burnt to become
the blunt cradled in your fingers that
you so lustfully wrapped tight.
i wanted you to take a drag off of me
and hold me in your lungs until you could feel
the bricks being lifted out of your skull.

i was jealous of your high,
so i worked to be your orgasm.
i never asked to become a part
of your sexy drug-induced release,
just made an effort to expand
the places you could find pleasure.

it's wrong to expand when you could fit in.
it's wrong to fit in when you could make your own place.

i'm not sure what i did wrong,
but i miss the smoke on your breath
and how you pretended you loved me more than that.