I fell used. Used to the fact which, I wish I could flick a switch. A switch that reset. Reset to the time I was asked to smoke that. I only now wish I knew that the pipe filled with that murderous herb, would make me a slave. A slave to a crave I could not escape. However this killer became an escape all in itself. Hit after hit destroying my health. And after I started this poisonous prison, I had to conceal this hell I'd been given. With capes and masks I showed to the masses. A young brilliant youth full of open potential. One teen to himself confidential. The last of those masks I wore with resent. I wished to be caught in this tedious spell. Now it's over, oh well. I achieved nothing more than a laborious hell.
