You Crave Me

I am your morning cigarette.
You crave me,
you need me,
but someday soon you’ll realize
how toxic I am.
Someday soon
you will leave me.

Don’t you worry, darling.
I’ve already stained your lungs black
and I know you’ll feel
the ghost of me
on your fingers
forever.
In the mornings
before you fully wake
you’ll crave me
because old habits die hard
and you’ll never quite be able to
kill the desire for me.
When the gentle lips of your wife
bore you,
you will think of my
bitterness that somehow always
tastes sweeter than honey.

That one time you give in
and indulge
she will cry when
she smells me on you,
and never again
will you feel me
on your lips,
but I know you will always
feel me in
the darkness inside you.

Right now
I am your morning cigarette.
Soon I will be
the cancer in your lungs.

I wish I was sorry.