The Lit Cigarette

February 13, 2016

As I sit in my garage, Staring at the thing I love and hate,I begin to feel the urge to remove myself.

As the flint strikes the gas,The ambient light begins to flicker in my eyesAnd I ask myself, is this a choice anymore?

As the smoke fills my lungs,I begin to feel the emptiness leave my body.My brain switches to auto pilot.

Deep breath in,Hold,Deep breath out.

I begin to ponder why Im doing this in the first place.To remove the emptiness I feel, my brain tells me.To remove the depression of the lost love and the weakness which it caused you.

But is this really what this act accomplishes?Or is now just a habit you must do to feel alive in pool of sorrow you put yourself in?

"You have it so good" people tell you."You're so loved."But why is it that I can't feel any of this?

Why don't I feel loved or cherish what I have?Why can't I feel my own heart beat when I put my hand to my chest,But when I put you to my lips, the world is mine to conquer?This life is torture without you but I know I'm better off alone.

Only after I begin to come down from the happiness that lasted so shortly,I finally realize that I choose this emptiness. I am responsible for it.

You never solved my problems,You only made them worse.I told myself a lie so many times,That I thought it was truth.

I wasn't removing the emptiness,I was only becoming it.

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The Lit Cigarette

mmoser4537

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