my addiction doesn’t come in cartons
small square packs wrapped in cellophane
or a brown paper bag from a dealer
broken cigarette habits always come back
my addicted brother confessed to me
he came home from delivering kids
on his nicotine yellow school bus
his hands shaking... and lit one up
after five long smoke free years
I grow my own nasty habit
my transparent crescents with ragged edges
...always grow back
half moons hanging low in blood red skies
hangnails peeled from throbbing fingertips
tasting of inhibitions
addicted since the age of nine
it’s legal, hurts no one but me
and it don’t cost a penny
Author notes
9. brown paper bag
17. broken cigarette
Keeping them painted nicely helps until I break one.
It's a terrible habit that comes and goes.
I am just happy that I cant bite my toenails.
Comments
1 - 12 of 12
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I could not grow nails to save my life..I didn't bite them, but I had weak nails, and would bend and worry them until they peeled off down to the quick. Thank goodness for acrylics! As noted in another comment...you can't break or bite them! Great poem, with marvelous illustrations and use of language!
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This is very affecting and real/raw - I like the contrast of the two addictions because I think they are similar in their ways.
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Liked how you imbued imagery by showing what wasn't there, also the colouration of the smokers bus as nicotine yellow. Neat elongation of the stretch served by five long years. Followed by the lovely " tasting of inhibitions" My only suggestion is not to take up Yoga or you may well be tempted by the toenails too lol how wonderful that your addiction is legal and also doesn't mean you end up having to stand outside and smoke!
Well done!
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I love it. I have both a friend and a daughter that can't quit that habbit and I keep trying... I used to do it too... until I started wearing acrylic nails. Too thick to bite through. IF you have the kind of nail beds that they will stay on! Anyway, great poem. A topic I never would have thought of!
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what an unusual topic for a poem but i really relate to it. i too am a nail biter and i think to myself often this punishment i am inflicting upon myself defies all logic and yet i continue...
i gave up trying to quit a long long time ago.
the second stanza is my favorite, i love the "nicotine yellow school bus" line especially - very clever.
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Oh
this one is close to home. I had this problem for a long time, until I took a microbiology lab class.
Years later I connected my habit with anxiety and my parents' conflict, but that is another story.
This is a good poem, a new look and a logical story.
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Awwwww!
Pat I smoked for ten years until I couldn't stand the things ruling my life. But I don't bite my finger nails and I've always felt sorry for those who do.
Maybe if you continually dip your fingers in habanero sauce. That might do the trick.
Well, if I come across a cure, I'll send it your way.
Paul
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I really admire people who can quit nicotine addiction. It must take a lot of will, there are times that I don't bite my nails. When I was just a kid, it was extreme.
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Well this is an interesting interpretation of the smoking addiction. I'm afraid I just don't understand the stanza...
"Transparent crescents with ragged edges
broken fingernails always come back
new moons hanging low in blood red skies
hangnails stripped from throbbing fingertips"
I must be having a bad day or something...it sounds good though. lol.
And smoking costs alot, but your last line says it doesn't cost a penny? I am all confused and I'm sure it is all me and not you. Sorry for being so honest, but sometimes I can really miss the mark. I look forward to hearing your meanings here.
alby
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I bite my nails off, it's a nasty habit which I have had most all of my life off and on. I dont know if it comes from insecurity or just an obsessive impulse, so I grow my own addiction.
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Oh thank you, it is all so clear now! lol. How could I have not "got it" first time 'round! I never did bite my nails and can't understand how it's not terribly painful to do that. I guess it's better than smoking though. Thanks for the explanation...alby
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I was drawn to this poem by the title and wondered what direction you might take. I didn't suspect fingernails, but I sure know what you mean. Sometimes I find myself fiddling with one and I didn't even realize I was doing it. I finally get all ten nails to a decent length and then they start breaking. This was such an unusal topic and you covered it so very well. Good luck in this contest. Peace, Liz
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