10 0 10

last cigarette in the maroon pack.

I’m one cigarette from sunday
and seven dollars short
from another shot
at immolation—

I could pay
for a pack in
plastic but paper
burns so much better.

5 am trip to the liquor store
“please sir, may I have some more”
my hands are shaking regardless
so give me something to calm down

because I hold all these things in
and they will kill me in the end—

I hold all these things in
and they are heavy
when I just want to
drift like smoke.


I really love the flow and the overall tone of this piece. If it's possible to be personal and impersonal at the same time, you've definitely achieved that here. The imagery is light and heavy all at once, and it creates an almost lucid kind of mood. A+ work.


This is absolutely phenomenal. Loving the flow, the use of words, the imagery.  It's all fluid. Just an excellent poem. :) Great lines here and there too. Am particulary fond of the second and last stanza. Really enjoyed reading this one!