Smoking is unhealthy. Oh yes, it's very very VERY bad for you. But for me, deep down inside, there's a little flame waiting to for its full potential to be realized, and the end of the cigarette meets its tip where the first drag is always like coming home.
Funny how the things that seem like they would be so wrong, seem so right. Smoking has always felt like coming home, even cheap cigarettes, though the taste may be foul, I find myself smoking another, and another and another. Till I'm dizzy with the lack of oxygen and the air is cloudy with tobacco. Yeah, smoking. I do it and I'll do it again too.
I used to be so unsure of the line between dreaming and reality and it seems that was never the case. Conscious and unconscious, darling that's where the line lies, and I'm hardly conscious for anyone or anything anymore. I find myself going through the motions, shutting down, shutting off. Just getting shuffled around like papers with no real place to be sort into. Everyone is so on the surface, so content with what they're handed. I've spent forever looking for the people who dive into the mystery, and I will no surrender them so readily.
Just one sweet slice, please, deep and refreshing, so I can just lie here and let it all flow out, just one unforgettable moment of freedom, of pleasure. Thick and strong, the pull of the empty viens, let my body go into shock. You don't get it do you? You don't understand anything.
I have to use you, I have to hold you close, so you remain in my life. So I have somewhere to run...please don't leave...but don't stay either.
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