Girlblunt
Peyton Gatewood
i love
Weed.
i mean.
I love God
and my Mom and my Boyfriend and my Roommates and my Dog and i kinda love my body
i love my Heart my heart
i love the curves of my hips my waist that brings the coldest most stubborn unforgiving merciless men to their knees
i loveee
Weed.
(SPARK)
tiny silver plastic rolling tray i bought from the dollar tree in greenpoint
kitchen section, what else could you have possibly been made for?
ALTAR
on my knees
i pray to you.
magic rainbow $15 iridescent grinder from saint marks
you crumble
, magic green flower into
Potency
better than my blue fingernails
(ROLL, SPARK)
weed defrosts me like spring in a bong
creativity, morning coffee,
i do my makeup better than everyone else
i write my poems with you
my best ideas
my ace of wands
at night when i can’t sleep
or when i can’t stop shaking
i’m making my friends ashtrays out of air dry clay for christmas
i don't mind the coughing, being the one to get the water
i love the movies the food tastes better you laugh for longer and you forget forget
and i think they said that Forgetting is the best medicine
i Worship you.
my Mom told me something about it;
she’s a hospice nurse
a senior woman had a tumor so bad her scalp was black and goopy
nothing on the charts could stop the aching,
her daughter in law slipped her thc oil
and the woman slept peacefully that night
i'm not saying i have brain cancer but i am saying that there is a fever inside me that i can't sweat out and a deep cold fist clenched in my chest and the doctors call it adhd and inherited depression my Mom calls it sensitivity my Boyfriend calls it my mom
a tarot reader says the Weed is blocking my intuition
i don't dream anymore
that's fine with me because when I dream i dream of stress
and dead childhood dogs
and the future
like in a sylvia plath way
everyone has their silly little Vices
Moms vice / Drinking / Working hours and hours
the little things it takes to get you through
i don’t question it anymore
it doesn't bother me anymore
and how could they not?
mine is the same as the mellow rappers and hippies, not the dangerous stuff but the stuff that makes you
cough and forget things you swear you wouldn't
like frank ocean’s mom grandma idk said.
(COUGH)
y'all hear that?
MY cough is not from coronavirus
Peyton Gatewood is an all-American poet, essayist, journalist, superstar, phenomenon from Dallas, Texas. She writes for the lovers, mystics, haters, and ponderers. She has big boobs, a bigger heart, and is allergic to her own sweat.