Craving a Smoke

I’m craving a smoke I’m craving a drag, a poisonous and toxic puff of smog to fill my empty lungs to pass the time to feel the burn in my throat. I fill my body with solitude and meditate in cramped spaces with no air. Lightheadedness I hope one day you find what you are looking for but I still won’t count my blessings. Despair is an art and I try too hard sometimes to ignore pain. And other times to fill my lungs with a kind of tragic beauty that kills. I know you too feel the endless bitter burn of existence, I know your melancholy Oh too well. I’m in love with my suffering now, are you? The way it scratches too soft, too hard, tickles and then subsides. The way it travels through your veins and insides, fills you with all sorts of burns and bruises but I’m just craving a smoke right now.