High is what I find in a glimpse of hope when the odds are against me,

And not in the extra gulp of liquor that I drown myself into only to wake up to a new dose of misery.

It is how I walk when others mock me with words their inadequacies describe,

And not in a tiny roll of relief that eases me for a moment only to bump me up with twice the burden.

When I fall, high is how I rise,

But not through abuse of painkillers and purple slaving bottles.

High is what it feels to submit to the most high and not the struggle to compete with Him.

It is the will I find in walking the extra mile,

And not the need for me to be validated by conflicting others who disagree with the proper order.

I understand because I have been on the wrong side of high, have you?

I have dragged joints and delivered smokes,

Consumed bottles and stumbled across life aimlessly,

Tattooed my arm with blood clot from needles and gradually lost sight of reality,

Missed a tiny step and boasted of surviving a mountain fall,

I have slept shamelessly without fabric and woken up shamefully, all from being high.

Then one morning after a reality shock decided to end it all,


It was a high that stole my soul by replacing it with fake confidence,

The high that lost me in the pretence of what I wasn’t,

The high that dealt me a low blow, with a feeling of loneliness and the presence of myself in a colourless room stormed by silence but with several condemning voices in my head.

This high instead of hope showed me death by self as an escape route.

That high consumed my humanity and slowly set my sanity on fire.

High is a journey of two paths,

With choice as the ultimate destination before the end.

It’s never too late to go right.

Chioma travelled left and now walks the street naked.

Bashir snuffed through the same destination and lost to overdose

Seyi walked this wrong path and slowly gave up in the war to cancer, one of the lungs.

They all felt good until things went wrong

The good feeling never makes it right,

Get high on aspirations, not medications.

Get high on hopes, not septic holes.

Get high on your pursuit of happiness,

And not the battle against sadness.

The right high never leaves you low!

Narrated for Sheyo Becks: @SB_photography00 on Instagram

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