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Like a cigarette
you sooth my addiction.
the stealthy smooth smoke of you
infiltrates my rib cage
with a subtle burning heat.
But cigarettes don't last long
you will soon burn out
I wish it would have lasted forever.
As you lit up your cigarette
your promises went up in flames

Smoke has filled your lungs
drugs have scarred your soul

What can I do?
What should I do?

Are you okay?
Are you alright?
Is what is keeping me awake at night

I am so scared
so ******* scared

I love you so much
but I can't be with someone
that feels like a maybe
someone who doesn't love me enough
to stop destroying their own future
and thereby destroying a chance of mine.

- the poetic fairy
Jenn 6d
why don't i put another cigarette to my lips
and hope to *** I die quicker
hope that I don't have to be here
do I have to be here?
Jenn 7d
I'm biting my lip at another morning,
it tastes like metal
I've had the pleasure of knowing this taste before
however,
I've never known yours
do you taste like my bleeding chapped lips?
or do you taste like ice cream on a summer night?
do you taste like an unfiltered cigarette?
or do you taste like mint gum?
you must taste like sleepless nights,
because that's all my body seems to crave.
Jenn 7d
cigarettes make me feel better about abandoning you
I want a jeep because of when you would drive your mom's
and play rap songs
I want to be what I thought you were
Jenn Dec 8
I smoked to fill my lungs
to **** the flowers that grew there
the ones you planted last december
Brando Dec 7
Those little sticks of joy
How they make my mouth water
I’m in need of some lovin’
And those little sticks of heaven never seem to fail me
Even when I am alone
Your always with me to keep me company
Those little sticks guide me
They help me see right from wrong
Or at least they clear my head
And when the smoke pours out of my mouth
The relief
The struggle and heartache just vanish into thin air with every breathe I take
You were always there to hear me cry
Those little sticks of magic
How good you taste against my lips
Reminding me with every puff how I’m slowing killing myself
But you taste much nicer than all the pain
So, for now it’ll just be me and you
My little sticks of death
I've been trying to quite, but its just too good.
Jeremiah Dec 6
Babe Ruth smokes a Raleigh in the doorway,
as i give birth to a broken mirror
if home is where the heart is, i live on the state line
or on my sleeve
he knows that, and as he finishes his cigarette
i ask him if he ever thinks about cancer
"i think of it like i think about 1949,
so far away"
Coffee time.
Breakfast, too.
Wait -
I'll skip the food.
Cigarettes?
Not no more.
I'm sure
I'll find a horrible. . .
(replacement)

{dance to dying}
{the alternatives}
{dance to dying}
{don't appeal to me}

Sit too much.
I stand, too.
Move?
It hurts to move.
I do move -
Right through pain.
Pain = Life.
And so I flagellate.
(substitution)
the saddest lives
are of those
which
get along with
their
rich parents,

a high-school love
easily pursued
into
an early
marriage,

the constant availability
of opportunities
to try
a bit of
everything
without
consequences/ regrets
upon quitting.

there’s just
no substance
to
any
of it;
a life lacking
substance
is no life
at all,

so set your
cash
on fire-
count pennies
for another pack
of cigarettes
to torture
your poor, wheezing
lungs,

and have no idea
where your
next
much-needed
drink
will come from,
you miserable
*******
alcoholic.

a life lacking
substance
is no life
at all.
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