Suffocation There are five cigarettes in a pack Resting upon my bed, One for each. The first a supermodel, Too much of everything, Whereas I was too much of nothing. And just as exuberant light defeats somber shadows, This smoke is you. The second an intellectual, Knew not to bet against odds. Chose firm land over a sinking ship, And just like the water filling my lungs, This smoke is you. The third was cynical, Aware evil always prevails, So chose corrupt morals and fame. And just like the defeated crawl to an escape, This smoke is you. The fourth was destructive, Always finding ways to feel pain, Until the pain was too much. And just like a child suspended on a doorstep, This smoke is you. The final was ill, Masked behind good will and smiles, A knife plunged deep in my back. And just like your madness consumed me, This smoke is you.