Milk
“I’m just going for milk he’d say”
but I know we don’t run out everyday
pack after pack I would find in the trash
he’d smudge his hopes into the ash
burning his sorrows in the billowing smoke
with every puff his heart broke
“I can quit any day”
but still i’d find packs hidden away
each stick like a pencil, he’d write
he’d go outside and rehearse through the night
we would yell it’s tearing the family apart
but he’s not in a good place, his mind or his heart
he lights it with his regrets and mistakes
I try to ask how long it will take
until he and his habit are done
but he remembers the risk and the fun
back in his youth when his skin was of silk
“One second” he says, “I have to get milk.”