my room smells like a man who you walk by on the sidewalk
who smokes cigarettes for breakfast and then sprays on a few coats of cologne to hide the stink and shame
but in reality the smoke is still with him
it's in his clothes
it's in his hair
it's on his hands
it's stained his mouth
it's festering in his lungs
so
why does he do it?
go through the trouble of trying to sneak past others without letting them know of his habit
without having to talk to them because he knows how bad his breath stinks despite how he brushed his teeth three times
and how his hair stinks even though he rinsed and repeated twice.
because
the smoke envelops him in a comforting, feather soft embrace that only its hands can touch him with
the smoke burns his lungs so he can feel again
and the smoke burns his eyes and nose when he brings the cigarette too close to his face
but that's okay
because the feeling of goodness and sedation afterwards is too rewarding, too addicting.
it's too addicting.
he's too addicted.
he's hurting himself. he's hurting himself.
he's knows it. he does.
but he'd do anything for another one,
another brief vision of clouds (it's just the smoke) in the starry midnight sky,
another hug.
Another hug
another dose of love
another puff.
Another puff.
Another cigarette. And another.
Dec 27, 2015
Dec 27, 2015 at 6:45 PM UTC
my room smells like a man who you walk by on the sidewalk
who smokes cigarettes for breakfast and then sprays on a few coats of cologne to hide the stink and shame
but in reality the smoke is still with him
it's in his clothes
it's in his hair
it's on his hands
it's stained his mouth
it's festering in his lungs
so
why does he do it?
go through the trouble of trying to sneak past others without letting them know of his habit
without having to talk to them because he knows how bad his breath stinks despite how he brushed his teeth three times
and how his hair stinks even though he rinsed and repeated twice.
because
the smoke envelops him in a comforting, feather soft embrace that only its hands can touch him with
the smoke burns his lungs so he can feel again
and the smoke burns his eyes and nose when he brings the cigarette too close to his face
but that's okay
because the feeling of goodness and sedation afterwards is too rewarding, too addicting.
it's too addicting.
he's too addicted.
he's hurting himself. he's hurting himself.
he's knows it. he does.
but he'd do anything for another one,
another brief vision of clouds (it's just the smoke) in the starry midnight sky,
another hug.
Another hug
another dose of love
another puff.
Another puff.
Another cigarette. And another.
