Cancer Calling

Always following me, beckoning me.

Cancer calling,
filters dancing,
asking for me back,
fill my head
and fill my lungs,
and make inside me black.

Watching others
take a puff
knowing I did well.
I don’t need it.
I do not;
That tantalizing smell.

Watching lips
and reddened tips
of sickly sticks of death
beckon me
to kill myself
with every smokey breath.

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