Cigarette Box Man

She spotted my high degree of vulnerability.

I was as convenient compassion supply, picked up from 7-11.

Bought quickly, with grimy cash that had rat-chewed corners.

Little by little, she sucked all the air from me, leaving me breathless.

Then, the shell, or empty box of me was casually littered out the window.

Days later, picked up by a prisoner doing his community service by getting the trash off the side of the road.

His touch felt kind for half a second but then I was surrounded by layers of trash.

Drowning.

B

u

ried

The light had dimmed.

But it was just the calm before the coming of the furious fire.