each sip, succulent, powerful,
until the finishing drops,
lingering, taunting, provocative,
all make their way to my mind.
each hit off this cigarette,
burning deeply, cancer-ridden,
deliciously curves my appetite
to the skew i've taken against myself:
inhumane in the disdain for myself, my existential ideals push themselves through me.
every blink, second
brings about refreshening,
uplifting, unrelenting, and deathly
eye-opening thought processes.
the last time i tried,
passively, obsessively, partially
only half-heartedly, i was found
stuck with half of my heart gone.
*i'd hate anything hateful you'd ever have to throw at me, but i'm willing to listen.