“Pick me! Pick me!” by P.C.A.W.

You release me from my dark, crowded, smelly living space I have to share, and bring me out into the fresh wide open spaces. I haven’t smelled such clean air since I lived at the edge of a large field.
You caress me, making me feel loved and desired. You light my fire, getting me all hot and bothered. You press me to your lips with such ardour and passion that I feel the life being sucked out of me.
What’s this? You pass me around like some kind of slut. How degrading. Then, when you have used me and no longer want my company, with a flick of your fingers, you toss me aside. Why do you do this? I still have life.
Ouch! That hurt bouncing on this hard white surface. Then I feel this heavy crushing pain I’ve never experienced. I feel like I’m being torn apart. I have feelings too you know. Oh, well, I am just a cigarette after all.

P.C.A.W.
August 15, 2011

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