A sickly smoke, clutches at the lungs.
It burns, but you continue.
You have no choice, it has you now.
A sour addiction, this torture is sweet.
You'll never excape, not alive, you see,
It takes your lungs, then it takes your heart.
Your left with nothing, but a burning body, and a sour taste.
YOU ARE READING
The ramblings of a madman
PoetryThese are a collection of poems and intriguing thoughts, that I have had. I will warn you, most of them will most likely contain triggers (blood, suicide, murder) so read on, if you dare.
