Lick my fingers ***** the wick,
Table candle, soft and slow.
That flame lit up the cigarette
And crackled like a secret I stole.
Cough at first, a hole to fill
a hollow crave its bitter bit
From cigarettes that are not still,
Shadows lead where they could--
A needle’s kiss, bite a broken pill
promised thing I misunderstood.
I told myself I’d stop when I was grown,
but somehow, every path led me astray. Ash ashes ashtray
Each lie I spun became a stepping stone;
each lover’s touch just swept the guilt away.
They called me names: a "*****," a "wild child," "bad."
The doctor’s eyes would narrow when I spoke.
My father’s face turned hard, his heart so sad,
but still, I laughed and vanished in the smoke.
The candle’s flame still flickers in my mind,
its warmth now gone, its light a ghostly hue.
It burns to ashes, leaves me cold and blind—
I wish I’d snuffed it out when I was new.