The Smoke

With each inhale I fill my mind
with all the hurt and pain I find.

I push it down, replace the smoke
with thoughts and morals that force my choke.

I take it all, my worries, my fears.
And hold it in, my eyes to tear.

Then one moment so full of bliss,
I can expel death's pending kiss.

For when the smoke does billow out,
likewise my pain, my hurt, my doubt.