Wicked Thoughts

Smoking was my nastiest habit

that’s how I think of you

A blemish on my perfectly imperfect life

You live to make mistakes

promises made to be broken, lies told when words spoken

I don’t dislike what transpired

I was drawn to it

dragged to it like the nicotine from the filter of my newports

that rushing high felt when your drug of false love hit my veins

left me feeling filthy like the ash tray of a mouth I had

the blanket of a toddler being pulled across the floor

mindlessly cause you cling to it but chase every bright object that crosses your eye

you wouldn’t let me go

No matter how hard I tried to kick the habit

I was always brought back

even now the thought of a puff makes me lick my lips in wonder

what if