Lonely Stoner.

The stoner rolls up his weed. As he licks the blunt it hits him harder than before... he's a loner. No ones around to marvel his perfect roll game. No one is around to call him by his name. 

''Fuck it! I do not need anyone by my side. I have my weed and my pride.'' As the smoke travels to his lungs as he take a puff, he said ''This weed will always be enough.'' He convinced himself that he doesn't need human interaction because this marijuana guarantees satisfaction. All humans do is break each other down, call each other names,and do not give a damn about each other feelings. 

Now weed listens to him. It knows him inside and out because he inhales and exhales it. It puts him in a state of relaxation, it makes him laugh when he looks at stupid YouTube videos on his Playstation. What else does he need? Most people are after power and greed. But weed is just a plant bringing happiness from a seed. 

Puff puff, but no pass because he has no one that he can pass it to. The weed enters his bloodstream and his eyes drops low. ''I'll stay here because I have no where to go. Actually, I am hungry, so I'll go to that hoagie store and buy a Hero.''  

On the way to the hoagie spot he saw couples holding hands, saw homies making up hand shakes. He never had that affection or that kind of connection. He didn't need it because he had what he needs in his back pocket. 

He came to a stop light and saw a girl that smile was super bright. You can get lost in her eyes and her voice is so soft that it feels as though she can't speak lies. He wanted to summon up the courage to speak to this girl, but he thought that he was better of alone. So why when he looked at her his heart did not feel like stone? 

''Wow. I've must smoked some powerful weed or maybe this girl is what I need?'' He could feel his heart beat as fast as the speed of light, he could of sworn that all the stars aligned that night. He spoke up and said, ''What's your name?'' She responded and said in a soft voice, ''Jane.'' ''Are you buy a chance going to the hoagie spot?'' She responded with a nod. He knew that he lacked intearaction skills and if he doesn't look sharp he'll have her running for the hills. 

He asked if they could sit together. And she said, ''yes.'' He got what he usually got. His Hero hoagie with no mayo. She was content with a small sub and some froyo. The first couple of minutes was awkward, but he began to ask her questions about herself. He wanted to know. He listened so intently that he forgot to eat his Hero. 

She was a medic that saved lives. Maybe she could be his hero and save him from his loneliness. How ironic. He always came here to buy a Hero, and he meets a girl that saves lives for a living. The night was growing old and the it was getting cold. They left the store and he offered her his jacket. ''What am I doing? He thought. This girl is changing him minute by minute. 

She said, ''I have to walk home.'' And he says, ''Alone''? He walked her all the way home and before she went through her front door she said, '' I enjoyed my night and I hope we do it another night.'' What kind of high was this? He swore he could shoot a target from a thousand miles away and would not miss. This was something weed never game him. He took down her number and walked home. Maybe he was done with being a loner, but he took out his weed, rolled up, puffed it because he was not done being a stoner. 

The lonely stoner finally makes a connection. 

 

This poem is about: 
Me
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