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Northern Poet Feb 24
Addicted to the puff
No sign of giving up
Even on the tube to work
I just can't get enough
That fruity vapour
And the morning rush
A tasty blue razz elf bar
And some candy crush

Give me a hit of that sweet sweet nicotine
As sweet as a sweet sweet tangerine
A morning shot of dopamine
Get that **** straight into my bloodstream

Puffing away at those magical clouds
Fighting your way through the morning crowds
I wonder what these people would think out loud
Times are up and then times are down
But no matter who's around
My lovely lost Mary
And her nicotine cherry
Will keep me sound

Give me a hit of that sweet sweet nicotine
As sweet as a sweet sweet tangerine
A morning shot of dopamine
Get that **** straight into my bloodstream
Ila Jul 2023
I don’t know why I attach these to you
Somehow, it’s what you’re addicted to that sticks
The everlasting memory of you that enters my head
Whenever I pick up a vape

Menthol plus.

And somehow, I can’t write the same words as I did to the red user
Maybe it was truly because he was an ******* through and through
But I still believe that somewhere inside there is good in you

I don’t blame you, which is perplexing
My friends tell me to. Hell, they even call you a monster
But I defend you.
Somehow I end up taking the blame for something I am not at fault for

I don’t really know what to say, I just know I wanted to write
Maybe I’ll do some journaling, or my favorite, letter-writing
Even if I know you’ll never see the words I want to tell you

Menthol Plus.

Unlike the reds, I smoke this to remember you.
The reds were bad, and it’s a bad habit whenever I pick up a stick — but hey, look on the brighter side,
I stopped thinking of him every time I picked up a red.
I noticed it with a friend at a bar. I did not even have one thought about you.

But Menthol Plus?

I am a Menthol Extra user.
The plus has always been too harsh
But why do I find myself enjoying it more nowadays
I never willingly bought it before, only a replacement for the X to get through the day
But recently, I’ve been seeking plus out.

Maybe I miss you
And the way you kiss my lips
But as I operate, avoidance is the best coping
I somehow seem to forget everything.

Am I blocking my memory on purpose to avoid the thoughts of you?
Or have I really moved on?
Is that really all you meant to me?

But I’d like to think not.
I seek out menthol plus because I know it’s your favorite flavor
You don’t talk to me anymore, and again, because of my coping, I hardly remember a time wherein you did
Sure, literally the day before we fought the fight to bring the beginning of the end,
We were talking like “normal”

But what is normal when you weren’t even a constant figure in my life?
We talked everyday, yes, that’s a fact
But It didn’t feel like we were talking

It felt like days without a meaningful conversation
I don’t know
Maybe it’s just me being delusional or me thinking the worst and only focusing on the negatives
But no, I had been feeling this feeling of disconnection for a while.

We’d see each other, it would get better, but then the cycle would repeat.

I guess I’ve been searching for you for months now,
But now I can only find you in your favorite flavor.
If you won’t touch my lips any longer,
At least this pod will.
At least the memory of your taste will hit my lips again, even if it’s just a copy.
Because I guess this is better than nothing.

And honest to god, I miss the way you kiss me.
But we won’t get into that right now.

I’ve been missing you for months
A ghost of a person who wasn’t there
I miss my boyfriend — a sentence repeated over and over to my friends
And yes, again, we talked every day,
But I missed the person who I started dating.
I miss my boyfriend from when he became my boyfriend

I don’t understand why he got complacent or why he was always so annoyed at me,
But again, avoidance.
I’ve decided that it doesn’t matter anymore.
It was perfectly reasonable all the things I asked for

And here again I’m missing you
Inhaling the the toxin into my lungs
Letting it touch my lips
Hoping to taste you again
But this will merely function as a substitute until I can taste you again
— probably never
But for now, this will have to do.
I've changed. Will you still remember me if we ever meet again?
Elena Jul 2022
I am hungry
Nicotine addicted
Smell of cigarettes take over my room
I am starving and I should keep on going
Punish myself for all I did
For all you did to me
I cannot sleep
I cannot eat for comfort
I need to smoke most of the time away
My heart is beating too fast
Or no at all
Natassia Serviss Jul 2022
My lips hold back the lava in my chest.
The burning, consuming, encroaching destruction is hardening my resolve more than you could have guessed.
I feel so at home in the flames that water is so underwhelming.
It’s the coals I sleep on through everything.
To look so long at the light only to blind myself each time;
You’d think I’d learn my lesson after each rhyme.
I’ve never felt comfort for long enough to recall.
The videos of me laughing are something that now make me bawl.
I don’t know how that feels anymore.
I don’t remember what you sound like or the color of your front door.
Your voice no longer echoes in my head.
Your face no longer plagues me in bed.
I don’t know you outside of memories;
Moments of my time that bite like fleas.
You make me itch still,
A symptom that which the spot can never refill.
I’ve been battling between anger and grief for so long now.
It’s a why; it’s a how.
It’s a feeling I can’t live without.
No matter how hard I try to erase the pressure or smother the intensity, the kindling always relights in this drought.
With a deep breath in, releasing all the smoke back out.
It’s my meditation now.
It’s my medication now.
To smell it on someone else and be engrossed in the poison that this can allow;
My dear, that’s intoxicating for me lately.
A mass we are swallowing with the passing moment cornering us innately.
I don’t partake with my own vessel but I will consume a host so absorbed.
They don’t see me molding my character every time I get bored.
One day I will have the entire puzzle lined up together.
Each piece fitted so perfectly, completely combined in a tether.
They will compose a tale so broken and numb.
That’s the feeling that fills my ****** drum.
Every tear is a bad dream.
Every eyelash is a wish for this story to have a different theme.
I’ve been feeling heavy
D A W N Jun 2022
i lit my cigarette like a birthday candle
and i wished for your name
through my puffed up coughs
and bleary eyes
this job ***** but atleast i met new n cool ppl ;ppp
Nigdaw May 2022
I smell on your clothes
the reek of addiction
yellowed fingers betray
your burning passion
Carlo C Gomez Jul 2021
Holy smoke!

This is a drag.

I've come to depend upon it.

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