Use, Quit, Repeat (The original was beautiful)

If I could take your addiction, I’d press my lips to yours and let it slither in like a hunting snake. I palmed the cigarette from your pack, palmed it, lit it, smoked it. It burnt my throat. It hurt. I didn’t ask for another. I crushed the pills from your pocket. Crushed them. You always looked so beautiful with your head down. Head down and nose against the glass of the table. I breathed in. Like you, it was euphoric. But my nose bled the next day, dripped onto my favorite pillow. Once white, once pure, now stained. Eyes red, my head is in your lap, I don't sleep in my own bed. I need you, I want you, I have to have you. Itches. My skin itches. I'm sweating but shivering, the light is off, the blinds are drawn, where did you go? You've been gone. I palmed a cigarette from my pack, I palmed it, I lit it, smoked it. It burnt my throat. It filled my lungs. I lit another, trading one addiction for another. Kissing my illness into my new lover.