When I Think of a Cigarette
© Angela Moten
When I think of a cigarette,
I think of the seven thousand chemicals
that would rush into my mouth and
burn their way into my once healthy lungs.
I think about that nasty taste, that nasty
ring of polluted air I would create in the
space around my body. I think of the
looks of disgust given by those close by.
I think of those who politely stepped
away from me, and those who not so
politely stepped away.
… …
When I think of a cigarette,
I no longer lust its poisonous pinion,
my senses have returned (and improved).
I smile at the recognition that I am a winner.
My sanity has returned. I am strong. I
have garnered the lessons this addiction offered.
I have unveiled the truth – I am neither
victim nor fool. In the wake of a once
destructive force, I stand victorious -
captain at the helm – punch my fists up in the air.
Rejoice in my new found freedom.
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