the ugly writers

As He Smokes

He tries to assure himself that he's not but he can't, all evening he cries himself to sleep asking why was he too much of a good thing and too terrible for a bad thing

As He Smokes is a poem written by Reuben Abrogar and shared with The Ugly Writers under the theme Stop, Look, and Listen for the month of May

 

As He Smokes

 

His hands are shaking, his breath reeks of nicotine

His palms wet with every puff of smoke

Maybe it’s time, he said to forgive and forget and forget and forget wait a minute.

Maybe it’s time he said as he walks and let the air breeze through his jacket

He downs another dose of anti-psychotic, maybe it’s moronic

He doesn’t care, all he remembers are the night terrors, the way he screams and dreams and how he’s reminded him of his errors

This is hell, he said. Madness, anxiety and depression becoming best buddies to give and live as a living hell

“It’s not your fault” they said, but maybe it is?

Don’t we all blame ourselves with what we’ve done? We’ve sunk a new low and all I desire is a blow-or-job? Blow job? Blow this job

He fights everyday, with medicine in hand and coffee on the other

He fights everyday but to die for a year is to respawn in another

He said don’t kill yourself, he said, don’t kill yourself, don’t, kill yourself

“Am I crazy?” He asked himself every single night

He tries to assure himself that he’s not but he can’t, all evening he cries himself to sleep asking why was he too much of a good thing and too terrible for a bad thing

What outweighs the life he has lived, all he craves for is forgiveness.

Forgiveness from himself

Because he knows he can’t take more nights like this, he can only pretend for so long

Before things fall apart

As he smokes.

 

Read more from Reuben Abrogar by reading his previous entries at The Ugly Writers.

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