Cigarettes

The evil that has me sold.


About, four years from now I remember that burning lady I had put on my lips for the first time. It was sizzling away to a slow blast of smoke. Easing, seeping and mellowing the ever engorging activities of the mind welded on my pulsating brain that works like a petard. Slow now the world seems manageable, the reigns flow back in my hands. But there is darkness in the draws made by my being, not so seemingly now.  

Two years back. Stillness. Waiting for me to collapse, feel the slap of water on my cheek as my senses swivel away in morose depth of the cold waters. They are many a maidens of revival on the cost. But none shall set me free. I do not appeal to the eyes. I have caught on with my retarded survival and then it eases me out now.

Sinking low. I feel those memories of niceness escape me in gasps. I will hit stone-dead on the lake-bed.

The cold stilling in me slow. I feel finally the smirk escape me. I pull out the last cigarette and smoke myself the final ease. No pain, no blurry vision nor hindrance of my sickened body. I am home.