Habit defeats,
ripping wounds appear in my mind
in the form of ash;
Tucked between my lips.
They swim around me.
It's not what I wanted, it's not the way it was supposed to be.
A life barely lived.
"They all quit you," the voice says.
Tradition over the mind.
One long hit;
a raw, beautiful pain in my throat.
Winners never quit,
or another of thousand cliches.
The zippo ignites.
...don't worry, it won't hurt...