Cold Cigs (another of my earlier poems) †
I canít think straight,
I know this.
Style is day and night and
Cigs just taste better in the cold.
I like to let the burn set in.
When I feel the sting,
I want more and all at once please.
Everything is jaded so I stay faded.
Devious fantasies drive my mind.
Iím doomed and demented at times,
Newly found, most of the time,
And out of control, all the time.
See what you wannaí see,
This is only the beginning.