i've decided to breathe poison.
i don't like the way it tastes,
the bitter stain on my tongue
or the telling smell that sticks to my hair
i like the way it feels
lighting one cigarette with another,
ash falling to the damp earth,
melting in to nutrient-rich soil for the plants to eat
i control how deep
the smoke buries itself in my lungs
but not how long it settles there
and i enjoy the hazy
silhouette of euphoria
that comes with each grey exhale.