the
smoke
fills his lungs
like a smokestack.
the butts litter
ashtrays like
little potholes of ash
throughout
his room.
stacks upon stacks
of the disgusting things,
brownish yellow- just like
the **** on his
teeth.
his
breath
smells
and tastes
as if you were
lying facedown
on the hot
pavement, tongue
to the ground
gravel, dirt and gasoline
on your tastebuds.
he burns
he yearns
for the fix.
when he works on his car
in the hot sun,
his fingers shake
unless he's
holding a smoke.
And every day when she comes home
she kisses him full on the mouth and
breathes
it
in.
Mar 15, 2012
Mar 15, 2012 at 3:57 PM UTC
the
smoke
fills his lungs
like a smokestack.
the butts litter
ashtrays like
little potholes of ash
throughout
his room.
stacks upon stacks
of the disgusting things,
brownish yellow- just like
the **** on his
teeth.
his
breath
smells
and tastes
as if you were
lying facedown
on the hot
pavement, tongue
to the ground
gravel, dirt and gasoline
on your tastebuds.
he burns
he yearns
for the fix.
when he works on his car
in the hot sun,
his fingers shake
unless he's
holding a smoke.
And every day when she comes home
she kisses him full on the mouth and
breathes
it
in.
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