The Last Drag

Much like coffee,

Or caffeine;

Tobacco,

Or cigarettes;              

Is an innocent vice.

Therefore, the consequential mustering

Of that vice

Is never actually considered…

Until it is.

The innocence

Of that last drag vanishing

As the doctor says, “It’s lung disease”.

I had attempted to quit…

Months before this…

Enlightening visit to the doctor…

But…, vices are never really relinquished

At will;

So I sleep without sleeping

As at last I know the truth;

Weighing heavily upon me

While enveloping me completely,

With no obvious escape,

Not unlike the darkness surrounding me,

Suffocating me;

As though I am encased in a cloud of smoke

Trapped within a cocoon of myself

 Hysterical

All the while, a blood curdling scream threatens my cool reserve

Like a smoke detector in the dark of the night

Only my screams are lost among the roar of the fire

As the flames flicker and hiss

My already burning lungs

Are engulfed by flames;

Burning flesh assaults my senses;

Gasping as my lungs turn to ash

I choke on the ashes of my charred lungs

Which crumble in my throat;

I collaspe as I suffocate on my charred lungs.

(A troubling truth

Damaging if spoken;

Truth is habitually damaging in its revelations)

I lurch awake

drenched in sweat

and my throat parched;

I choke on the inescapability

And severity

Of my ultimatum to quit smoking

(A common side effect of truth)

I consider the end…

Sleep no longer my companion

In the dark of the night,

And, morning…

Her voice echoes in my head

The doctor says, “It’s lung disease,

On the Bright side,

I quit smoking, though.”

As I lay sleepless

Lost within the confines of the shadows

Of my mind,

I realize

The last drag

Is no longer innocent;

The situation no longer surreal

As my mother’s voice echoes in my head.