Go Listen to this on Katha

Smoke, Liquid, Pill, Needle, Flesh,


is a dangerous game

and if there was one thing

I loathed about myself,

it was that baby,

I was hopelessly addicted to you.

And with you gone,

there was a blank space

there was an echoing void

screaming, I had to make amends.

I crave cigarettes

like  crave getting lost

in the liquid brown warmth of your eyes

but recalling, I now gasp,

because it feels like I’m drowning.

I crave the burn of alcohol down my throat

like the kisses you trailed there

that left a mark of burning desire

but is now scorching me.

And I crave a drug that would make me forget,

if only for a while, the way you made me feel.

But nothing was ever enough

to replace everything you took from me.


is a dangerous game

and I am having withdrawals

from the boy I once loved.

Shaking, heart aching,

for an ounce of you

I could still have.

There was a need for your lips

So I pressed mine to a filter instead.

There was a craving for your touch,

So I busied my fingertips with a lighter.

Praying! One addiction

would override another.

One, or two, or four.


is a dangerous game

and with poison in my bloodstream,

still inhaling shit

to try and numb

an all too familiar pain,

I regret what

I have let myself become.


They would say

cigarettes were bad for me,

That the smoke would fill my lungs,

making it hard to breathe,

That it would eat away

at my insides,

Ensuring a slow and painful death.

But baby, let me assure you,

losing you was no different.

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