Her Last Drag

She was done

Aimlessly and shamelessly sat in open sight, half dressed. Swearing she was all right

What a relief it was to be back in her own personal hell

Where her bad memories rest and her demons dwell

"Isn't it romantic?" She thinks

How her demise is unfolding so tragically poetic at the flick of a bic to the Not-So Lucky 7's tip

Each puff brings truth to the surface

Her layers crack to the rhythm of her heart beat

Her mask cracks

She sighs as pieces of her dreams fall to her feet

And with her last drag

She was finally herself.

The lies are dead

She rests her mind and lays back her head