I Envy The Vice I So Strongly Despise

I envy the vice I so strongly despise.

I find myself wanting so badly to be it.

Craving your attention, desire.

The one that gives you comfort and relief.

Instinctively turning to at all times, in all ways.

You cannot quit me; you need me.

I want to be the one between your fingers, that you manipulate and mould into the perfection that you need.

I am what gets you through your day.

Accompanying your morning coffee; your late night whiskey.

I crave to feel and taste your lips.

To run through your veins, be the air in your lungs.

I want to clam you as mine, be the smell that saturates you.

The taste you need; that's on your tongue, your hands and body.

Those who come after me, know that you are mine.

I own you; I am the one.

I want to be what consumes you and kills you ever so slowly; in the most exquisite way, like you, kill me.

So far from what I am; but it's all that I am.

A sad little girl, whom you ignite.

Used your fingers to manipulate me.

You took all that I am; that I was.

At the mercy of your lips.

You watch me burn to nothing.

Flicking me away, and crushing me once I've served my purpose.

However, unlike your precious cigarette, you never came back for me.

You left me there, burnt;

So small and insignificant.

The secret addition that you needed to hide.

You walked away and never looked back.

Oh how I envy the vice I so strongly despise.