She Can't Help but Click

She picks up the lighter,
And he hands her the leaf.
Her body is on fire.
She is so ready to leave.
Her tears melt away,
When she hits the herb.
But the pain stays the same,
And her heart still hurts.
Her mind, it soars
Her thoughts, they roar.
She leaves.

And then

Comes back.

Worse off.

Than she was before.

Why do we do this to ourselves?
Why do we insist on putting ourselves through hell?
Why is the pain never-ending?
Why is the weed at our fingertips?

And all we have to do is click.

This poem is about: 
Me

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