She sat on her porch listening to the hum of the cicadas and lit her last cigarette
After the year she had, after the things she had suffered; where was God?
She had never known how empty it felt to be alone
Puff, puff, her lungs were full of smoke
Her little brother came outside and told her she was going to get cancer,
He begged her to put it out
The girl said, "I'm dying anyway, John."
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