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cristina Feb 28
it's always you, sweet child
you take the burn
beautifully
let it mark your hands
and feast on your chest
watch the flames make you recognizable again
coax the deepest wails out of charred, tired lips
oh my, sweet child,
how you've grown to love the fire
inspired by oscar wilde's quote "a burnt child loves the fire"
Steve Page Jun 2022
He didn’t realise just how easy it was to slip
how you can lose track
lose count and how simply
a habit can become addictive

Once you get the taste for the hit
you find yourself reaching for it
and before you know it, you’ve slipped
into a dependency -
lucky this time you’re only a *****
for Lemsip
been full of flue these past few days - honey with lemon Lemsip hits the spot
Nigdaw Feb 2022
I wish I still smoked
**** yeah
It's the ritual
the need to make time
to die a little
opening a new pack
shiny cellophane
the lid flipped back
paper seal for freshness
pulled out to reveal
20 happy moments spent
inhaling, coughing, thinking
the soft packets
where you flicked the
cigarettes out like movie
stars and the Marlboro man
who are all dead now
roll ups, kit form bronchitis
liquorice flavour papers
combining childhood flavours
with adult life takers
the smell clinging to clothes
and hair dragon breath
but we all looked so ****** cool
so adult so grown up
so ****** clueless, *******
on our manly pacifiers
I wish I still smoked
**** yeah
just don't have the courage
some how
George Krokos Jan 2022
The birds in the backyard often look there for food
and it seems they're doing so lately in a happier mood;
it was just the other day when I mowed the grass
so now they can move easily over it again and pass.
Their activity is done habitually each and every day
and watching them closely seems as if they're at play.

They scrounge on the soil with their beaks and feet
competing at times for some bite and morsel to eat.
When disturbed by a sound they fly up into any tree
away from the threat of danger they scamper and flee.
A human presence would be enough to get them going
particularly when heading in their direction knowing.

It's a bit of a delight to see them at play in their quest
doing what they all have to do to survive hunger's test.
I used to feed them some crumbs on a regular basis
which became a habit for me to them as in an oasis.
Together with water left in a plastic bowl for a drink
they'd a few things going for them one would think.

It was only after the local cats caught onto the idea
with their basic instinct, that food or game, was near.
One of them would come around and hide in the grass
crouching there patiently for the right moment to pass;
if the birds were unaware they would fly down to eat
of the crumbs left for them so their hunger could beat.

The cat seizing on the opportunity then would by surprise
spring up and race after them as food or game in its eyes.
There would be a mad scramble and loud flutter of wings
as the birds, escaping from that danger a predator brings,
would scatter and fly away as fast as they could to where
they'd be relatively safe from the clutches of death there.

Sometimes when looking out the back window I'd see
a cat roaming in the backyard in the shadows of a tree;
this would be enough warning for me to raise the alarm
and get out to try and keep those local birds from harm.
I would do this by chasing the cat away over the fence
so the area would be clear again for the birds I'd sense.
_____
Written in December, 2020
Katie Jan 2022
I'm fully aware of risk I take;
Gambling again that I'll even wake,
But the rush is addicting.
Clamping a hand down, inflicting
A state upon myself I cannot
Escape from, time and again I allot
More chances for it all to go wrong.
I'll sing my final swansong.
14
WickedHope Sep 2021
w h y ' s
h a v i n g
o      n      e
a  d  d  i  c  t  i  o  n
l   e   f   t
s e e m
h   a   r   d   e   r
t h a n
h  a  v  i  n  g
s   e   v   e   r   a   l
Lulu Sarmiento Jul 2021
I've been there.
I've been here.
I've been circling around.
And around.
Endlessly.
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