A Poem

Alright. I tried to quit smoking. I didn’t say anything about it, because I didn’t want to start again, and then have everyone say I’m a stinkin’ wuss.

Stress always gets me.
Cigarettes end the stress.
So I stop quitting and smoke.

I wrote a poem about it. Wanna read it, here it goes:

I do a good job of staring at the computer screen.
I can stare and stare.
It’s that or scream.
Or run out the door to the store.

I NEED cigarettes.
NEEDNEEDNEED

Fuck.
I need cigarettes.

Or staring.
Or cigarette staring.