She only breathes easy when she’s smoking,
please never ask her how she’s coping.
Tar stained fingers hurt from all her hoping,
as she crosses them too tightly again.
She shakes so when she is caught thinking,
fears fists whenever he’s been drinking.
Has a funny feeling her lifeboat is sinking
as she tries to light her hope in the rain.
Perhaps with a pillow she could smother,
suffocate sad summoner & find another,
remember her happiness with a new lover.
Her black hope leaves a new yellow stain.
Her once frail, fragile fire’s finally arisen.
Tries to stay strong, mustn’t let her hope schism.
‘sides, she hears they deal in cigarettes in prison.
Pack of dark thoughts galvanised by her pain.
She smokes her last cigarette & heads back inside.
Copyright © 2015 Philip Craddock. All rights reserved.