Drag

Well, I guess it's just you and me.
The cigarette dangles from my lips and I leave it just like that. I like the way it feels, the way I feel it looks. Hanging from my mouth, pushing my bottom lip down slightly, maybe giving me that moderately abused badass style. Yes. I push my hair around, wondering if I look how I feel I do.
Finally I light it and take a drag, the first hard, sweet drag, pulled deeply inside. Smoking has that connotation of self destruction, an apathy for self being. The smoke swirls around my face and I say to myself, well, I guess it's just you and me.
I wonder if I look how I feel.