Smoking

When I breathe,

what do I choose to inhale?

The air;

Full of poisons.

The pollution, the chemicals.

Bleaching our body.

Discussed everywhere;

the schools,

the news.

The ones that fuel the wildfires

of suffocation;

those aren’t brought to light.

And they come from our own

mouths

and actions.

I was once forced to take a joint

made by a boy that took pride

in his strength.

Strength that he proudly displayed

through heinous acts of

grabbing me,

touching me,

pushing me.

The grotesque fumes clouded my eyes

in a haze of self hatred,

spilling into my nostrils.

The scarring of my nose

reads words:

Ugly, unworthy, unlovable

You know what they say about smoking,

It’s addictive.

The chemicals, the nicotine.

Others tried his drugs at his urging.

They accomplished the same high

via my pleas for mercy.

What good is a single smoker

when you can

share the artificial joy.

Others simply chose to breathe.

Coughing out the second hand smoke,

hating the lingering scent,

but not saying anything.

Just don’t join in,

that’s what everyone says.

What about me?

The drugs were being forced down my trachea.

Shoved into my lungs,

creating a growing cancer,

infecting my body.

I was told to fight it, but

how can one ignore the destruction

of my cells;

the cells that made up my every being.

My self-love, my empathy, my kindness.

The signs of my newfound disease

were there…

Scratching my arms,

colors of grey underneath my eyes,

Sometimes I refused to eat,

and when I did,

the sustenance exited into the toilet.

I tried to find hands, doctors to hold me.

The diagnosis never came.

It’s my fault, they say.

Why should I have these feelings?

It’s just their words, why should I listen?

They tell me to deny it,

to ignore the hatred,

to turn a blind eye to my torment.

It’s not real to them.

I suppose I should have protected myself better.

I don’t want to smoke,

but in the end

my words aren’t enough.

So I let the toxins infect me.

My parents stood by

watching me overdose.

Disgusting

You don’t belong here

My drug addiction

only become important,

when my own smoke

Disappeared into the stratosphere

singing hymns of unshed tears and cries for help.

You didn’t see my pain.

I wasn’t unhappy in your eyes.

How could you not see…