Hello PoetryVoting

Vote

Voting-Boards

Home

HomeFollowingInboxNotifications

Read

ReadLiftedFeedsListsHeartedHistoryMy WritingNew poem

Explore

ExploreOrbitsWordsTagsClassics
Log in
0
Stars
0
Embers
0
Alerts
0
Inbox

Vote

Voting-Boards

Home

HomeFollowingInboxNotifications

Read

ReadLiftedFeedsListsHeartedHistoryMy WritingNew poem

Explore

ExploreOrbitsWordsTagsClassics
Log in
0
Stars
0
Embers
0
Alerts
0
Inbox

Saturday, May 24, 1:34 AM, In The Shambles Of Slayton, Minnesota.

by @dippyeggs

"I don't know what to do anymore," I said, between hits of concentrated cancer and a constant supply of countenance. You were there, and you were sharing the smoke with me. Like a long lost brother, you sat close. "No shit." You said, with the smoke passing through the screen window. "We're both equally killing ourselves." She added, and it was the truth laced with nicotine. "I'm so lost," I said, with my head resting on the window, as she passes the cigarette to me. "You of all people should know that." I'm holding the cigarette like a drunk mother holds both her child and the toilet bowl. I'm holding the cigarette like it might save my life. Her mother screams, "You better not be smoking up there!"
Request permission to use this poem
Written by
dippyeggs
For You?
Written by
dippyeggs
Published
May 25, 2014
Time
2m
Notes

I went crazy on Friday, do you hear? My mom went crazy, and my dad went with it. I got lost with a friend, and sat with her all night.

Tags
#poem#cigarette#smoking
Permission

Request to use this poem

Tell dippyeggs how you would like to use it. We review requests before forwarding them.

AboutBlogSupportFAQPrivacyTermsContact
© 2009-2026 Hello Poetry/v27.0 [production] by @eliotyork
Explore
Hello PoetryVoting
Write