“it started on the hallway
one turned into three and
three turned into eight
eight puffs, eight hugs
by the lady made of smoke
and i don’t know if i regret it
or if i don’t care anymore
because once i threw away
my dad’s cigarrettes
and looking through my
sister’s purse i found
a brand open pack
and i hear my mother say
that i would never follow those steps
because in her mind these things
were nothing more than a joke
so i guess it still is when i smoke
and i smoke until
i don’t know if the fire in my lungs
is made by the cherry puffs
or by the absence of your love”