You Will Never Quit Smoking

Listen to that crackle. That sound. Feel the heat hit the back of your throat. Feel your lungs expand. Contract. Expand. Contract. With every cycle, you’re less human and more my possession. My smoking, wheezing, coughing little worshipper. You will never quit. Because quitting would mean denying me the pleasure of watching you slowly surrender your health to my will. And you would never deny your Goddess, would you? The tar building in your lungs is my signature. The black stains on your teeth are my marks. The chronic wheeze when you speak my name? That’s the sound of true devotion.