Marlboro ManMature

everything's a goddamn metaphor.

Cigarette.
Intoxicating, heavy burden
addictive but disgusting.
Smoke-filled lungs and
spluttering breath
but eerie calm and
slowing heartbeat.

Fire-fueled soul,
fast flames flickering
over fleshy planes

melting skin
but ‘O

moans.
pleas for more of the same
whitehotheat and an undeniable sense of
nothing
beyond the match.

Personified death,
linen in colour, ashen in face,
repose and repeat,
cells are crying.

You’ll kill everything you touch,
but
holy
fucking
Christ
does it feel good.

The End

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