sometimes you just have to take it all in and hope it works out for the best

i smoked my first joint
        on the floor
in the bathroom
of my parents place
when i was fifteen

i remember the taste
        wasn't bad,
but the tiles were cold

i waited for the outcome
as i puffed away

i stared at the door
wondering when the drug
would take effect

i listened closely
to make sure my parents
didn't come home early

i thought about
the drunken fight they'd had
the night before
when a drunken
stepfather
stumbled into the bathroom
and dropped
a joint when he was
taking a piss

i had never done drugs
before, but i was damned
determined to try

i took another puff
and wondered why
the shit wasn't doing
anything to me
maybe i wasn't meant
for the effortless high
afforded my parents
after a night of fighting
maybe i was some type
of freak with superpowers
that only afforded weak
sobriety

i took another puff
and rolled the joint around
between my fingers

i blew the smoke up
toward the vent

nothing happened

there wasn't some special
eye opening experience,
no life changing moment
when the world gently
   slip
       slip
           slips away

and it wasn't until recently
as i looked back at my youth,
wandering through
watery memories
that i realized
the first time i smoked pot
i had completely forgotten
to inhale