I'm afraid of trips to the hospital you know that. I'm allergic to dogs, cats, and dust of course you know that. Something I can't bear, but you live for. It starts with a wheeze, a trembling cough with no matter andthenIpanic. Fiddling through old pockets and and a glove box ican'tbreathe. I know you're somewhere close wherethehellareyou? Hiding in a pocket from yesterday thankyoujesus. Gripped firmly to my mouth I give your silver top a hard push AND THEN AT LAST vapor fills my airways to ease the inhales from my last cigarette. A subtle sweet taste, like spray candy mixed with cough syrup. I hold for ten alligators so you can work in peace as you navigate through swamps of shisha and THC. A thick fog I cannot see. Ripping the mucus from my walls making tar stuck to tissue seem like a lubricant for a fire engine. At last clean air. A moment enjoyed for a minute. One last puff, and I'm not dead yet.