stepping into the foyer, a gush of wind hitting me

can you smell it on me? 

my paranoia is getting the best of me, i need to calm down

a nice hot showing will cool my nerves 

exiting; my heart is thumping in my ears 

she smelt it, she felt it, she sees it

no where to hide or run i have to face this obstacle

jumping over the lies, and racing past the excuses

i confessed: "i smoke weed" 

my mother's anger is boiling on her brown skin 

she's thinking i'm just another unsuccess

how do i surpress my feelings other than clumping them in a heap of smoke?

i dont have the therapies or medicines, i just have mary jane

that mother daughtrer realationship will never been the same

but how dare you judge me when you are no different

i understand you dont want your beautiful daughter to fall in the devil's trap

But you didnt set a better example for hopes like that