Bad Habit
- Safiya Burton
- Jun 30, 2018
- 1 min read
Ashes to ashes,
placed perfectly between two
fingers.
Its thin skin secures it as a whole.
Pressing my lips onto it
as I light a flame.
My lungs, bruising
like the aftermath
of a broken heart.
It’s bad for you
they say
coughing from the pollution
of their cars.
My middle finger replies while I
flick the ash off my cigarette.
It only kills me if I light it
-which I do.
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