Parents

I've asked them to stop.
They have told me
time and time again they would
because they loved me.
They loved me enough
for a day, maybe a week
But love was easier to smoke.
Showing their love, in their mind,
is filling our house
with smoke until our clothes smell.
Do they think I don't notice?
Do they think I don't see when they try and hide?
My life is filled in a smoky haze.
My parents lives, shortened with each inhale
They could stop at any moment.
But oh wait, its too hard they say.
Is that how they want ME to go through life.
Oh, I can't do that mom and dad, its too hard.
Oh mom and dad, even though this might hurt me, I am going to do it anyways
because its easy.
Yes, I guess that's it.
I love them.
They love me.
But for them, love is easier to smoke.