Couldn’t not do it, a filthy cigarette every other minute
Pressed painstakingly, all too regretfully between her lips
Beestung perhaps, but what may have been utterly good outside turned out the polar opposite within
Lungs crying out, on the brink of collapse
She smiling mid-puff as though it were absolutely normal
Know why? ‘Cos it was
Sure don’t we get to hear it all inside of the song “Smokers Outside the Hospital Door”
Addiction stripping our hearts, even our clothes, as much as our goddamn lungs from us
And all for what, some greedy man who drives a Ferrari out in the Maldives and smokes a Cuban to continually turn a crust!?
Trust no-one, nothing
Least of all those lips…