I know it's bad for me but I invented it's intentions.
I turned my oxygen into carbon monoxide.
And I breathe it in until I see stars.
Inhale. Inhale. Inhale.
Something so sweet only deserves such treatment.
The pleasure an alcoholic experiences with the smell of France's wine cannot compare.
The aroma so satisfactory I fear a moment in its absence.
Dependence is a lethal thing.