The Pull

The lighter clicks and the cigarette lights; at the sight - a sigh of pure delight. The nicotine invades my lungs; the calming taste stains my tongue. My head spins and pulls my head up high; the clouds taste like ash as I swallow the sky. Then the drag gets yanked back, and I crash to the ground; reality snaps back with a deafening sound. So I hit it again, and the dizziness hits; it just feels so good - I’d walk through hell before I quit.