A Good Blend

I was reading some poems,
late in the evening,
high on a good blend of weed
I’m still numb in the hands,
but I don’t give a damn,
I’m alive; it’s more than I need
It could’ve been an hour,
it might have been longer,
it’s hard to tell when your stoned
I’ve got these aches all the time,
thoughts, darker than crimes,
there’s no escape in being alone
There’s a black rum that I drink,
liquorice notes smooth and sweet,
the ice clinks like chimes on a door
I am content, for the while,
Tilt my glass with a smile,
I could not ask for anything more

© Christopher Raine