Smoke gathers in the air,
Mixing with the fog of this dreery night.
Inhaling the chemicals I know will kill me,
but who cares, not me.
Alone with a bottle in my hand,
Taking another swig.
My tastebuds have gone numb.
But who's judging, not me.
Taking them inside to lay me down,
Never to see him again.
Emotions are no where to be seen.
But who's slut shaming, not me.
Vices are who we are.
Embracing them are a risk.
Monitoring my actions is obsene.
But who's changing, not me.