except for
the way it

makes 
clothing
smell like
burnt poison

or the way

it makes
mouths
taste like
dead tissue
scraped
from a
burning
building

or the way

it tars
your [and
everyone
else around
you’s] lungs

or the way

the smoke
seeps
up through
air ducts
and invites

Itself through 
door cracks

giving you
[and
everyone
else around
you]
no choice
but to
partake
of it-

-which is
to say
-I fucking
hate it

except
the mindset
born of it;

distaste
with life
and slow
self-sabotage.