I smoked my last cigarette today and boy did it taste just like all the others.
It tasted Like 8 minutes by yourself
Like the last thing you do before you go inside every night
Like short conversations
Like the cold air you force yourself into
when winters lingers like the smoke on your fingertips.
Like the **** you have to take afterwards
Like the ashy kisses we force onto our loved ones
Like burned upholstery in our cars
Like forcing a deep breath
Like headaches
Like nausea
Like all the ******* reason I used to justify the socially accepted suicide we sell in our gas station!
Like stress
Like sadsness
Like temporary relief
And Like permanent destruction
It tasted,
Like the color black.

I smoked my last cigarette today
And boy,
Did it taste just like the rest.