Untitled

Cigarettes are the constant reminder

That I still want to die

No matter how stubborn my will to live is

It states me in the face when I wake up in a coughing fit

Or when my voice gives out

It's the delicate balance between 

Pain and pleasure

Life and death

And how closely these ideas are linked 

Because what is one without the other

Pleasure flourishes as pain regulates

As death is just over the horizon