the miserable life of a miserable teenager

fake plastic chips, every now and then.

Now I gamble with

my life, daily.

How’s that for change?

Every time I inhale the dancing smoke,

I hope that may be my last breath.

Then I exhale the smelly substance,Property of Nô)(velDr(a)ma.Org.

and inhale, because I’m not that lucky.

Then again, and again, and again.

Because at this point, no amount of puffs will give me the buzz, I so desperately crave.

Yet my body won’t cave?

Stubborn. Like me.

Understandable, I guess.