Siren Song

I have one cigarette left.

Half, really. I thought flicking its ashes into the ground beneath me would be fine, but it’s fire dimmed. I’m trying to save it. I don’t know what to do. I asked God to help me cry, but I cannot cry. My fingers are squeezing the cigarette together and I am seriously contemplating walking a half hour just to buy a new pack. I already said I didn’t want to write about this stupid addiction anymore, but I am unwell and cannot help it.

The signs I asked for either don’t exist or they aren’t enough. I am on a ship lost at sea. There is no land around me, there are no birds to guide me. Every inkling I have that there may be life around me is struck down by lightning. I sit at the dock and I stare at the waves. Ripples and ripples and waves washing over rocks. How lovely would it be to be swept under. To stay under. The water washing over me and cleansing my spirit. The water rushing over me and making me feel clean again. The ocean bringing me down to her, I can feel it now. I sink deeper. The bubbles above me are so preeeeetty. I pop them all. I am falling deeper and I am falling asleep.

I got on the ship alone, so there’s no saving here.

I didn’t check the lifeboats and I don’t care about the life vest. I want the sky to darken and to make the ocean my home.

I want it to put out the fire within me and make everything okay again.