Smoking...Trust Me

by Paige   Jun 18, 2007


It's been four years now
Four years that I have been smoking.

It wasn't until now, just now, that I could actually taste the poison in the cigarette.
It was, again, another hit of reality.
I am growing up, I'm still young.
Still just in college.
But sometimes I feel as if I had grown up too soon.

I feel the brain behind these eyes is far too old for them.
I feel these eyes conceal to much of my life to make you think everything is perfect.
I feel this life is not perfect.
I feel perfect. I feel perfect
I feel perfect

Then something is clearly wrong.

I feel the poison now. Running through my veins, leading to my heart.
One less minute to my life at the end of this smoke.
That's ok, I don't fear death, especially if I'm controlling it.

So let me smoke this cigarette, let me feel the pain behind these four years, let me lie to myself and feel perfect, when I am not, let me find out what is wrong.

Don't you trust me?

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Latest Comments

  • 17 years ago

    by Paige

    Thanks for the comment Richard =)
    I'd like to clairify the question at the end for you. When asked "Dont you trust me?" what is meant is that I am asking the reader if they trust me or not. Everyday almost someone lectures me about smoking, or mahybe other things in my life that are considered "wrong"....on smoking, wouldnt you think i knew enough about all the bad things that came along with it?Especially after four years. The question comes from my enjoyment of making people feel guilty for doing something to me I dont like or hurting me.Call it sick, but its true. So,in perspective, if you were in a relationship, and your girlfriend, of a year or so, was so pissed at you and said "dont you trust me?" you would be offended or hurt correct?
    I guess the main theme of this poem is a tricky woman....but take it as you may. Its art baby.

  • 17 years ago

    by Richard Machado

    Wow, I felt that I was riding that poem. I get so much of every point of it, Mmmm. That was savoury. My only problem with it is that I felt you were telling me something during the whole poem, and then you ask a question at the end which throws me off. I wasn't sure what I was supposed to trust you about. Has me a bit puzzled, but non-the-less an exellent poem that I felt all the way through, till the end (when slammed into some parked bikes).

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