Puff, Puff, pass it on.

Each wrinkle marked a cigarette that she dragged on until it was nothing. However, addiction didn't care what you would look like. High school days were her's to remember, playing hookie to skip Phys Ed and hang out behind the school. "Lisa's got a dart!" and everybody knew the rule. Puff, puff, pass it on. Surely, she couldn't get addicted if she only took two hits at a time. But that was years ago and the idea of quitting was somewhere hiding, probably behind all the packages of cigarettes at the corner store. One day, she will quit and she will never need a cigarette again! But her days are numbered. Surely she still doesn't need to smoke, she just smokes for something to do! Atleast that is what she convinced herself. Her eyes have long since seen beauty and her skin had the smooth grain of 60 grit sand paper. Her nose knew one smell and it made friends with that smell many packs of Marlboro ago. Her mouth, touched by the scent of the country air before infected by the poison of smoke. Smoking is a way to escape she told herself when she was younger, but know she is finding out that she was only ever trying to escape herself.