Smoke Screen

Something pulls me at the back of my neck.
A connection gone awry.
A scab, a burning,
an imbalanced love
it dampens the fire in my heart
and turns it into acrid smoke.

I smoke I smoke I smoke
To mitigate the pain.
But it’s not my pain.
Smoking opens the gate
For the astral projection
Of another’s pain and fantasy
To enter my being.

No more, no more, no more.