Addiction

My cigarettes and stale air mix into a heavy, yet familiar smell. A scent that starves my soul but feeds the ballyhoo that I enjoy this. Then there's days I've spent in fellowship with coffee; a dark friend whose warm but bitter taste comforts my nerves. The fear and familiarity outspend the price an unrepentant life deserves. I smoke in defiance of who I am; exhaling streams of smoke that silhouette the fact I act like I don't give a damn. But STOP! It's time to smoke a cigarette and quietly deny I've given up this being my last smoke or my last cup.