Addiction

Five more minutes then I can leave.

It becomes all my mind can think about. 

If I can just go this path less people will stop me in my tracks to get to it. I need it. And it needs me. Without me it has no power. Without me it cannot burn. Without me it cannot encompass my lungs.

Then finally.

The familiar spark of the lighter is almost comforting. I inhale.

The first inhale. I get this rush that I’ve been craving. The familiar buzz I am almost too accustomed to is back. I feel numb. For what feels like thirty seconds, I am calm. I feel good.

But then all too soon the familiar reality kicks back in.

The buzz is over. I have to make a decision in that moment. Do I go back in reality or light another?

I light another.

When its all done, I don’t feel calm. I don’t feel blissful.

I feel empty. Unsatisfied. I am left wanting more. I want the familiar buzz to last. I want more.

I am left feeling alone. Unsatisfied. Anxious.

They are asking, begging even, for me to have a moments pleasure for what could be a lifetime of emptiness and pain.

They say that once you start it’s impossible to quit.

I don’t believe it to be impossible, but I do believe there to be temptations at every turn.

Temptations I never would have had, if I wouldn’t have started in the first place.

But the hard truth is, the consequence it delivers always outweighs the reward it promises.

At the end of the day, it still won’t be enough.

Even on my worst day, it won’t be enough.

It can’t.

It will never satisfy me so why am I lying to myself?

used-cig

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