carcinogen

inhale. the cloud of cancerous smoke flowing freely in and out of my lungs like it's been there forever filling a void which has only recently arisen slow down watching the simple people as i drive by who know nothing of what it is to be truly addicted becoming more than habitual more than an obsession it's a need you are a need inhaling your sweet, sweet chemicals holding me steadfast with a vice grip of intoxication nicotine dripping from your voice on the rare occasion that you pick up the phone blindsided by my wants fully aware that you are killing me giving just enough to keep me not quite satisfied burnt out leaving the entrancing smell of something i wasn't finished with yet you shatter me like a vase filled with wilted flowers crumpled on the floor filter after filter constructing a headstone that you see fit. exhale. (this doesn't seem right to me. i feel that it's full of cliches. i would really appreciate some constructive criticism)