He told me to stop.
To stop smoking cigarettes.  
He said if I did not, he would leave.
I'm trying!
It takes me a few days, but I did it. I broke my addiction.
I walked to your house to tell you.
I see you with another girl, her lips pressed to yours.
I walked home, the only thing pressed to my lips,
was
a
c i g a r e t t e

Lighter, flames,
Another ounce of nicotine in me,
And you're the one to blame,
For the way my heart feels,

And I crave for more of it,
The way it burns in my lung,
I won't care of the demise I'll meet,
Its the one thing I understand,

See you're just like nicotine,
Both **** the life out of me,
But at least with a cigarette I'll be,
High for a while and stress free,

It kills I know,
But so is the milk from which you could choke,
I'll die, yes I know,
At least I'll know its my fault,

I sit down in tweak town
To jot down a new noun,
A nice verb, a poetic sound,
But all that comes out
Is blah blahs, and doubt.
There’s not enough coffee,
To help satisfy me,
As long as I compare myself,
To everybody else.

So here in caffeine city,
The poetry is witty.
Every verse excites me.
Ever line invites me,
To be better.
Speed is my muse,
As long as I let her.

A nicotine lozenge,
Four milligram a piece,
Helps me stay awake,
Until, I am allowed to sleep;
Helps me to stay alert,
Helps me write this verse,
But in the end
The zzzz will hit me worse.
I guess, I should have just gone to bed
Instead.

Nicotine*

I have seen rapture come
in the shape of the person I love,
in his arms,
in his mischievous eyes,
but rapture is only ecstasy
and ecstasy will eventually
fade into habit and
this fictional fairytale won't
seem so sparkling anymore;
glass loses its luster once the
sun goes away
and fragility is all that remains.
It's up to us to dig through
years of pent up baggage and
discover love in each other's rust.

I opened an envelope, not so hard,
Within, from nicotine there was a greeting card,
"Hello, Earthling, how are you?
Did you notice I am missing you?
Do you ever miss your old pal too?
Do you ever yearn for a packet of friends?
But they're only friends till the packet ends,
Or, maybe, your lighter doesn't work,
So you get frantic, like a berk,
Do you ever miss old nicotine?
We were friends from when you were a teen,
What? You gave up smoking?
You're glad? You must be joking!
Well, I'll say goodbye to you,
Old nicotine is missing you,
I wondered if you missed me too...."

Nicotine*

It was only supposed to be
a tiny, miniscule taste
but love had other ideas.
You are a cloudless sky
in my clouded mind,
In the end, I'm always
craving you.

You ever get that feeling that repeats,
like abstinence from nicotine?
You ever get that feeling of
wanting to be
numbed into bliss,
risking narrowed veins and arteries
for just one mind-silencing kiss?

I'll let passion sear my heart
and won't hear what my insecurities
love to whisper into my abused ears;
I can polarize what's blurred
and what's clear.

When people talk about nicotine
why do they only ever talk about the addiction?

why does no one ever
speak
of the choice you made to start
of the goodbye to normal breath where you
didn't find yourself craving for
more

When people talk about alcohol
why do they only ever talk about the hangovers?

why does everyone just
ignore
the infinitely perfect moment
the absurd impossibility of the existence of a time
outside of childhood where you can dwell
in blissful
ignorance

When peole talk about writing
why do they only ever talk about the worlds inside your head?

why does someone somewhere
always
pretend away the slow deterioration
pretend the pros outweigh the cons of voices walking around
dressed up as friends to your fading
sanity

When people talk about love
why do they only ever talk about the heart and blood and soul?

why does anyone even
bother
talking about love in the first place
when all it is is tingling skin and melting bones
complete with the undue thought of
you and
me

Nicotine*

I write this under a reading light,
my hand a shadow,
moving along the page.
I write this because you
told me I could share,
and because I've never really
shared the words that make
my hands tingle.

I write this because
you are my Toluene -
you stir my mind matter
in ways no one else does.
You make me panic,
then relieved, then okay,
then glad to be yours,
and then...

You turn into my nicotine;
The coldness of my body
not pressed against yours
seeps through my skin,
and the withdrawal symptoms begin.

Last night I fell asleep with an empty stomach and hallow eyes
Wishing to live in a different body
Only got 5 hours of sleep
It's strange how the season's effect me so much
Days spent inside this old house are always longer in the winter

I woke up with goosebumps and nicotine eyes
Deciding if waking up today was really worth it
Knowing it would be spent with lonely thoughts and a longing for you to call
But you never do

You are my nicotine, I inhale your words as if I need them to breathe
I should try to quit  
What we are doing to each other, its toxic
And what's so sad is when you finally reply
All I can remember is the high
I swear, loving you will give me cancer