I sit outside in 100
Degree weather
Sweating bullets
while Smoking
my first cigarette
Of the day

Even if it’s torture
I actually enjoy
How it feels

Raw and unfiltered
Just like the thoughts,
That rumble away
In the form of questions
And ****** encounters
That haven’t happened
And probably never will

I crumble under the heat,
As I sit patiently
Waiting for the noise
Of the wasp
That flies near me
To go away

So I can light
another cigarette,
And expect to forget
How love felt.