i dont smoke
Category: Poems

biting into my cheek so hard that i taste a tinge of copper in my mouth. dipping out into the cold night for a cigarette as the stale, frozen air pricks my nose. the wind blows my smoke into street, and under the yellowed light, it glows with such burning passion you’d think smoking wasn’t something to be ashamed of. gazing out onto the empty highway and imagining what it would feel like to be within someone else’s presence. being alone can get lonely sometimes. who needs the warmth of a lover when you have the warmth of a lighter, right?