Carbon Monoxide State Of Mind Poem by Koroosh Floyd

It is the chest in duress that makes the ordinary day, into an unexpected

gossip session in the brain. I sit in an overflowing café, business as usual;

mochas lapped up to the nth. Tar and smoke no longer punctuating the

system, carbon monoxide seeping, slithering in the membrane. The choice

is just; the time is now for something of a new beginning. Major culture shock

ensues so it seems to me; how many of them are thinking of the seductive

smoke screaming from their subconscious? The dreaded gunk hasn’t even

begun to flow from lungs to mouth. I do not wish this on my worst enemy, let

alone my friends. I’m one of them, indescribable for the time being. The

bursts of pain thumps upon the ribcage, so be it, the pain does not faze me

for but a second. Smells that haven’t been experienced in quite a while start

to materialize, even if it is indeed a short while. My old friend was the best

kind of friend, by my side always, changing perceptions on me by countless

peers from the distance start to notice.

A dirty look or twenty, I lose count over the years. Decision has been made,

the friend that trust was passed on, was the kind of friend other friends warned about.

Crazy, nobody likes a potential dead man; a dead man killing himself by choice.

The friend has now been cut off, contact no more; what does that have to say?

Neither ashamed or proud of my choice to be in cahoots with Princess

Nicotine in the first place. I walk alone, to meet the angry eyes from before;

with time, those red eyes might

Turn clear and welcoming once again…