His life

Just one more hit he said.
To escape his reality was his plea.
Lost in the transition of life, having so many strikes to his head.
Bubbled up confusion, was it all just an illusion?
He thought to himself, this may be the death of me, but I don't care as I will make everyone aware.
Pain was the reason he always stayed the same, too much in his mind to feel any different.
The numbness and tingling had taken its toll, as he created another roll.
Angel dust and weed will succeed to what he needs, the pleasure and the pain was all the same.
As he watched his life go by, he couldn't help but lie to himself, about what was real, and what was a reaction to this chemical spill.
He wishes things weren't so complicated, and that he could be sane, instead of stuck in this mind frame.
He played life for what it's worth, but got the shity end on this big earth.