You take it
and put it
between your lips.
You dig in your pocket
for the unholy magical
fire tube.
You use that tool
to give power to
the killing machine.
You breathe in Death
and choke on it
as you blow it out.
You thought
you were so cool
when you started
this ill-mannered practice
of suicide.
You fill your toxic lungs
full of poison gas.
You are burning
through that cigarette
like you’re burning
through your life.
I’d really wish you’d stop
because it’s starting
to hurt me too.
You finished your pack
and came inside.
You’d kiss me with
the kiss of death
I can taste
the deadly fumes
still in your lungs.
You ask for
six buck
to blow on another pack
to blow your life away.
I wish I had the courage
to tell you no.
But I don’t.
So instead,
I hand you the money
and lean in close
and ask you,
“Please Don’t.”