I may be a smoker
but I still think of the fruit
when I hear cherry

I’m in hell of a mess
with nicotine wracking at my chest.

But…

I like to think the aftermath doesn’t exist
at night when I’m smoking a cigarette.
When I’m as high as the clouds,
I never want to come down.

Because no one knows what it’s like
to be in need of something else.
To finally have power, even between your teeth.
Inhaling in toxins just to breathe.