Between Drags

There is a certain freedom
to this isolation.
knowing that as I write this
at four in the morning
that there isn't a single person
thinking about me.

I think of them all
during these cigarettes,
one more than the others,
but they become mine
between drags
and sips.

I can tell that they don't know
when I see their faces,
but I own them
during times like these,
and
It's enough
to get me to tomorrow.

by Charles Malcolm

Other poems of MALCOLM (112)

Comments (1)

Interesting concept, never thought of early morning hours in this light! Great write! Thank you for sharing. RoseAnn