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I wouldn’t find a reason to smoke again.

Even though she always wants a piece of my heart, that’s like a piece of my lungs for a piece of a smoke—while trying to get comfortable around me, searching for some peace just to smoke.

And even as I gave her a piece of my soul, that came with a few shatters of love from my broken heart, — I could neither find a reason as to why I still love her, while trying to piece together a reason at all.

Still as it cracks me up, with a broken smile each time we lie; to each; and together—baby I must have the crack you’ve been itching for.

Let me ignore all of the sounds that you’re no good to me, and share resources for our love as a drought filled community. Especially when our love feels so dry, that my eyes burn with sands trying to cry for my own sanity. You cursed my heart, and before then I promised I wouldn’t let that happen again—I swore.

                       I swore for all, searching for some peace
                       just to smoke— I wouldn’t find a reason
                                               to smoke again.

                               Guess it was just a smoke break!
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
Tunneling thoughts like rain
Craning through light clouds
Unsuspecting victims.

The fear
The tears
The temper tantrums;
                                           A kind of rebuttal

That won't let our feet find land
We adjourned to rehearse,
but our efforts were null and void

Only to appease with flames
that licked our shriveled bodies

D r
       i    p
                 p  i  n

Tainted like ink                  Spilled on
Reams of paper
ruined like Christmas
A house warmed by          Open flames

fallen candles                     Adorning
A naked kitchen                 My limp body,

Splayed beneath the oven      
darkness indulges,             It
The smoke,                          Fills                
                                               Each crevice
                                               In your mind

Can you ever fight it
Burn your way back
To blissful ignorance.
A poem intertwined with a dream of you living with my memory, sordid as per usual..
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?
ht Apr 2023
I chew Nicorette gum -
I don't smoke cigarettes

I use safety razors (not for their intended purpose),
I draft suicide notes in an app

I won't overdose - reuse my organs,
I'll drive off a bridge in a Prius

I'll turn the lights off before I go,
Turn my ashes into a tree
I'm a fraud. I drive an Escape. | h.t.
Thomas W Case Mar 2023
She ******* constantly about
cigarette smoke.
Of course, when she’s drunk, she  
smokes all mine.
And while she’s complaining
she’s taking snipes that
I wake up at six in the
morning to dig out of
ashtrays—walking miles to get.

It’s laughable.
She sits there with a  
***** **** hanging
loosely from her hand and
“I don’t like my
apartment smelling like
I say,
“Then don’t smoke.”
She says,
“Why don’t you buy some
real cigarettes—I’ll show
you what real
cigarettes taste like.”

Then she storms
off, all *** and hair flying.
She comes back with a
pack of smokes and a
cigar box.
“I paid two dollars for this, you can
put all your ***** butts in here.”

It’s actually beautiful.
It’s made of cedar and
would look great with
a cactus in it.

There are wood shavings at
the bottom, her
money would have been
better spent on
a dollar pack of rolling papers.

I’m field stripping the
snow embossed butts and using
cut up pieces of the
yellow pages to roll
cigarettes that I’m able to smoke.
She doesn’t have
a clue.
She only smokes when
she’s drinking.
I recently, finally quit smoking.
Alio Sep 2022
Both of my parents “don’t smoke”
But the pack in the bag disagrees
And the butts in the yard
Hiding spots in the car
Beer cans through which I can see

Both of my parents don’t smoke
Sometimes I think it’s a joke
When they’d smile their smiles
And lie to my face
But every secret has its place

And at least mine aren’t known
Cayley Raven Aug 2022
Who do you think you are
to pollute the air I breathe?
It smells like dead toes,
You smell like ****.
Costs a ******* fortune,
Why are you doing it?

Go find another ******* window,
Window of a fellow smoke.
Maybe they´ll join you
And together you can choke
Your filthy ******* lungs
With instant cancer joke.
I guess I don´t like smokers
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