TRADING ADDICTIONS

The phantoms from my cigarette
shift shape
and change into her face
with the control I can muster
I wave her face away
and once it's gone I grab
hoping to recapture the light
but it's gone
this home burned
this soldier has yet another medal
and more braggard's scars
these smoky breaths sting
but who cares
it can't hurt bad enough to stop
that's the problem
I don't know when to stop
the phantoms dance aimless and flacid
from the end of my cigarette
then I drop it to the ground
and crush it underfoot