Smoking kills

By Hannah Scanlon

I feel like that first puff of the Amber in the afternoon

Not a morning one, no, I sleep til noon with you playing catch on my mind never failing to tire legs.

I stay awake, jealous, nervous that we’ll never be the same

Or feel the same.

 

I feel like that first puff of the Amber

Again, light headed and dazed.

I accept you into my lungs choking on those butterflies fluttering about.

Taking pleasure in mild discomfort.

There is no word for it

Sadistic doesn’t fit the bill.

I’m comfortable now with the indescribable

 

for certainty is ruin.

 

I feel like that first puff of the Amber

Only now, a breeze of calm fleets to occupy every inch of me.

I relish being alone.

A selfless selfish act that only I can execute on my own.

Hannah Scanlon is a Human Health and Disease student at Trinity college Dublin.