Nicotine Patch

There is a very specific thing in my mind,
Broken bodies I see moving outside
Where they carry their corpse,
And feed from their own flesh
Where they look so charming, but are one step closer to death
Where all the living have lost and died to disguise.
I am not talking about some social issue,
It is just a lung exercise.
The world that we are a part of, is as dreamy as it seems
It looks good as if it were a dream.
But waking up into this nightmare is what makes us scream.
I see you lighting your smoke just to get by
Every single time,
Don’t you wonder why?
Your body tends to bleed…as your life starts to recede
All the people who love your presence...fade into dream
I get it you have problems, but so do I.
This life gave me the same hell where we live side by side.
I get it I shouldn't judge,
But what I do is “care”
‘Cause every single thing,
 There is this sudden nightmare, that the world we live in
We eat ourselves alive,
There will be no time to comprehend, even to look death in the eye.
I don’t think this is the way,
With every puff that you take,
 Think about the people, who love you,
And what if you go away?
It is funny how with every cigarette you lit,
You always thought that you’ll never become an addict.
Look how it is now, I guess this is why you are broken..
There is smoke in your lungs and not air for your words to be spoken.
Look at the marks in the wall, they signify every time you tried to quit.
But wait, there are none, let’s just say that this might be it.
Take your time, try to quit and mark the wall as you scratch.
This may not make me a better person but this might serve as your nicotine patch.