Pot Demons

My psych wants me to cut down
Evidently,
Mary is marring my treatment.
No big deal,
I can stop anytime,
Only...
There are these demons.
They pick at the back of my brain,
Rationalizing Mary in all of her glory.
They clench my stomach
When I think of going on without her.
They emphasize the emptiness
That Mary fills in my life.
Blazing at the end of a hollow day
Blowing smoke up the ass of anxiety
Calming fears
Clearing my head
Making me laugh in the face of adversity,
Sweet Mary...
Fucking demons!
Now fear clutches my heart
Can I stop?
Are the demons right?
Can I face the world alone?
Is Mary my companion
Or my crutch?
Do I control Mary
Or does she control me?
Suddenly I'm anxious and twitching
I need to stop immediately
Cut Mary back to weekends
And social gatherings.
Put her back in her place.
She has apparantly
Gotten a little out of hand.
And as for those fucking demons...
Mary and I will have to confer,
We'll smoke up -
Come up - with a way
To rid ourselves of them.
Pesky little shits.

by Annette Edward