Writing Exercise

There are no thoughts here,
Lingering amidst the warm ashes of my forgotten cigarette.
There are no thoughts here,
Swimming in the cooling pool of my sugar-sweet coffee.
There is only the numbness, the old familiar throb of it.
Creeping up my legs, slithering up, slowly up, into the back
of my spine, coming to rest behind my neck. Flicking,
Flicking my throat with it’s forked tongue.
Testing me. Teasing me. Reminding me,
I can never escape it, and I never want to.
I drop the cigarette into the coffee, and I leave.
When I get home, I remember,
I forgot to pay. I drive back.
They don’t remember me.
I drive home. I go to sleep, listening to the snake in my spine,
hissing it’s long lullaby…