𝕾𝖙𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖈 𝕭𝖗𝖆𝖎𝖓 | 𝖉𝖆𝖗𝖐 𝖕𝖔𝖊𝖙𝖗𝖞

4. a drag

Much like a cigarette

You're dry

Hair on fire,

And lost wits

Stale on lips

Your smell permanent

One taste,

But,

I'm not hooked

Damn, it's pretty unfortunate

That,

I never was.