Photo by Franz Republic on Unsplash
Was it the love or nicotine
Or maybe something in between
Has me wearing seven patches
Collecting scads of unburnt matches
Addicted romantic doused in gasoline
About the Creator
Kelli Sheckler-Amsden
Telling stories my heart needs to tell <3 life is a journey, not a competition
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Excellent storytelling
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Comments (9)
I am old enough to remember those wonderful packet matches. I used to collect them from all over the world. I smoked for a while when I was in my twenties and thirties—back in the good old days when it wasn't taboo, and the Marlboro man was an icon!
My oldest brother began smoking a pipe when he went to college so that he would fit in socially. How did I never notice how deeply insecure he was, that for him there was always something imbetween?
I especially loved that last line!
Love this analogy, gives new meaning to "getting burned". Great job!
Very powerful - bravo!
Love that last line! Great poem as always.
I bet you have learned a lot and earned your badges in this area. Good job.
Oh, so true. I don't think 7 patches are enough
Nice work. I love the analogy of the collection of ashes and matches.