You have extinguished so
many cigarettes on this wall
paint is chipping
I could say you are
smoking too much

But you are wanting
a good old fashion
mind-fuck, the kind
Faces of Death
provided you at age 12
How ill you felt
for days after and
could not swallow

Here now at this wall
you say;

I was born while god
was sleeping
and I will die
before god awakes
no love no judgment
no luck

You are conducting an execution
by firing squad
A bandana over your eyes
and every cigarette I see
you smoke looks like your last