Slowly Killing Yourself

The cold

it bites at every inch

of uncovered flesh,

stinging

but you don't mind. 

The feeling,

you're feeling.

It's anger,

it's sorrow. 

There's an arrow,

through your heart,

through your head. 

But you're not dead.

The bliss from lips

that you miss

yet have never kissed,

lingers.

Craving, 

wanting,

needing.

Like a smoker that's quit,

but everywhere she goes,

cigarette smoke wafts 

into her face,

telling her to relapse.

Collapse,

give in, 

cave in.

Will you?

For the temporary

satisfaction?

Blacken your lungs,

inhale.

Exhale,

inhale again. 

Does it feel so wonderful

to know that you're killing yourself,

slowly,

with every breath you take

from the cigarette butt

between your plump lips?

Wrinkling your skin,

changing the colour of your fingers

where you hold this cancer stick.

Mouth dry, 

lips crack.

Lungs ache.

How does it feel,

to know you're slowly

killing yourself.

Reviews

[Urja Gokani]

creepy but good amazingly written keep it up !!