Filter to the lips, quivering fingers,
flame meets paper, smoldering ashes,
the ashtray a faithful friend by her side.
Inhale deeply and release the cloud,
the white bathroom ceiling blurring for a few moments,
until the grey dissipates and she drowns in the light again,
blinding brightness bouncing off whitewashed walls.
Sitting holding the only faithful friend,
between frail fingers, blackened bloodstreams,
black from the darkness that spread from beneath her breast,
from where a heart is supposed to be,
lungs creak with the strain it takes to inhale another time.
Her nakedness in all its glory trapped in these opaque prison,
every curve narrating a different story,
ribs apparent but not apparent enough.
As the smoldering stub is extinguished on her own skin,
rewarding her with yet another scar to explain.
But how can she explain when no one understands,
the scars outside, the darkness within,
as her hands fly to the next one, hoping that she suffocates,
life is suffocating enough anyway.


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