Cigarette Smoke

It was the silence that got to me
At first it was sweet serenity of quiet
But then I realized I was alone
Found in places I didn’t even know anymore

It was dark and all I could see was the red flame
I took the first pull
Felt the smoke fill up in my lungs
The heaviness build up in my breath
And the taste on my lips

It was my escape
Which I find myself constantly seeking
Until the greyness of the ash became the dullness of every emotion that past through me

I look around me for people to pass judgment
But they see nothing
And in this loneliness the only friend that I’ve found comfort in is the white cigarette smoke


Niraksha Singh

I believe that scars, visible or not, make up the essence of who we are

3 Comments

jameslantern · February 22, 2018 at 3:53 pm

Mmh

short-prose-fiction · February 22, 2018 at 8:11 pm

beautiful write!

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