Last night I could not sleep.
Today, when I awoke, you were there.
Looking in the mirror I saw only you.
In my hair you curled and I could smell the chard scent as I tried to straighten you away.
In my lips you grew coarse and chapped as I braved the harsh winter morning.
In my breath I suffocated on your life: wasted away in pursuit of instant gratifications left, even now, unsatisfied.
Falling asleep tonight I watch you walk out of the room to smoke a cigarette
away from my judging, saddened eyes.
And even though I cannot sleep when you insist on staying over, I do not get up to join in–
ease your worry. Instead I wait for you to return,
stand over and watch me as I stare back
at your never ending wait for satisfaction; gratification drifting through the air in a puff of smoke.
Gratification delayed for a lifetime.