She is a cigarette
She's a habit hard to break
though breaking it won't matter
because I can't stay away
She is a bad addiction
Relapse is my routine guest
Somehow I always succumb
I never get to rest
I lie at night, so anxious
That I'll see her again,
might lower my defenses
I'll ask to see her when
I'm ready and more stable
(like that was ever the problem)
I'll forget that she's my cancer
I'll Forget will be my anthem

I can tell you that I love her
But know, I'll be ashamed of it
She's that cigarette, half-lit
that you keep in your pocket
When your friends come along
and ask you how you're doing
You'll say you're fine
even though she's burning
through your pants and to your thighs!
But you'd choose burns over whatever
their worried mouths will say
It's all a blur, a cycle
Why does she have to stay?

Why does
she have to stay
if after a few puffs,
she'll only go away?