Breaths taken too deep
Gulps taken too fast
Puffs taken too strong
Words taken too light;
Conversations that felt good then
Makes no sense in the morning
Emotions that sounded right then
Cuts no ice anywhere with the sun
All that is left of the beauty of the night
Left over ash
Forgotten dreams and
Writings on the wall.
I took another puff and exhaled. The smoke makes no difference to anything, it’s all a hazy blur. So what if I cough with each inhalation? It’s as though I am silently strangled and choking in this mist of restraint and confusion anyway.
I reach for the cup beside my bed, gave it a light swirl and downed whatever remained of it from the night before. It didn’t go down well, and caused a jerk as it slid uncomfortably through a dry and coarse throat from a puff too much of Marlboro. ‘Damn it’ I thought, as I stare into the shroud of uncertainty gathering in front of me, a sinister shade of the unknown.
Freedom awaits outside of these gates.