My Free Time Poem by Patrick Villareal

Cutting my prize down into that powdery form, I prepare
Handling this process with extreme caution and intensive care
I can only dream of what will happen as I continue my work
Thinking about that strange sensation within me that will soon lurk
I can't help but grow anxious as I imagine the journey within my mind
Shooting up my nostrils, flowing through me, leaving my body behind
making my pupils as wide as the blackened moon, my heart races
Beating out of my chest, Travailing to undiscovered places
The thought brings great comfort to my aching soul as I construct my line
Getting ready to encounter my infectious self....our fates shall align...