we  become our cigarettes
filter through them
morphing into transparent  beings like the
smoke that rises from our lips
we inhale the toxins to feel alive
we trip over our own breath
our thoughts become flammable lucid dreams
that lick at the edges of our palpable pain
we burn the filter to filter our thoughts from reality and
we give up the fire from our eyes and our souls to
light the glorified matchsticks that **** us in the end