I lay in bed feeling grey, I look out the window and see grey.
I feel cold on the interior and the exterior.
I'm trying to picture happiness but the photos are blurry.
I grab my worn red lighter, red like my heart which beats without meaning.
I grab a cigarette, a physical representation of death, the impending doom of lung cancer destined in the stars of my future.
I light the ciggie and it's fucking class.
The nicotine fills my body with dopamine and lightens my spirit.
It's ironic how something that relieves stress mentally increases stress physically.
I guess that's the way of the world ey, there's always a fucking catch.
©brandonso
B