If I could guard warranty as if it were doing something wrong over and over until the end of time, as if in a sequential pattern, would you ever break the cycle? Would you ever step in to break the chain of addiction? As if smoking were a smoking gun? And when I couldn't stop myself would that be just the next right thing in a pattern? In a habit, in a continued viscous outcry, if it were just that rebellion, and that fight to break an eternal stream of life? Like a flowing river from a mountain of wealth trickling downward, but always leading to every cell in the ocean. Always speaking to me, as if "just this last one," was just the pack, or just a "bum" in exchange for the pretty girl. I smoke with my right hand, and then the left, out the window when I am driving...its simpler that way to let the smoke signal do the blinking. And with the strength that's left in me to beat it, I surrender that white flag...its a stick for Heaven's Sake, right!!! It's the one little symbol that points me out as the WORLD CHURNS. A parody played in a Soap Opera, an old woman needing oxygen at birth because she was blue. A baby born to NICU. Nictotine. A stated poison control center in my body and the birth and death recycle bin screams, stop! Stop... be strong. Make this stand. And in this very breathe in and out I feel such weakness...and I cannot allow any room for my own humanity. As the omnipotent ruler of my own biological clock, tick tock...aging process to COPD...to asthma...to cancer...to why can't you quit smoking your own ashes on the mantle!!! Why can't you vision your Grandfather? Why can't you be a strong little baby girl? It's all your battle? Would you ask the egg to be stronger if it were a boy, or a girl? No it is scientifically proven that the male is supposed to make that decision. It should be a balance in equilibrium...found in the cerebellum...Is that why some Asians would drown their born daughters? Is that why its right? Is that why my left side is weaker than my right? Is that why the battle in my head is so blatant between my sexes? Smoking as a genetic weapon. Who will hand you your gun? Who is the lookout at the convenience store? Can I see your ID? Age appropriate addiction I would say...age old addiction. A smoking baby...make it the Surgeon General Warning. Funk. I smoke. And I ask to be relieved of this heavy chain. So I ask my Father in Heaven to come into my lungs, and in a viscous outcry...smack me on the back so I can breath. In Jesus name, Amen.