Girl On A Cigarette Mission

She is lighting all of them for a reason
Finishing them off for a greater explanation
The lone crusader with the orange stick in darkness
Let smoke be her trail on infamous crusades
She blows a puff to let the worry escape her
Soon a part of her and later one of the mist
She is adding to it
Emptying her heavy heart with the smoky bliss
Her fingers craving to hold one
Like the lovers desperate for a kiss
On a blissful morning she is creating her own patterns
On a moonless night she is lighting the hallways of her mind
“Needing a light, got a light” her favorite words
Then she draws the curtains of smoke in perfect sync
All rising and falling on the center stage of her daily routine
A reliever she thinks for the heaviness of heart break
Something that instigate her on that white pedestal
Where the dismal peace prevails
Her brief happiness in a pack of 20
The smoke being her only companion in the crowd of plenty
Rainbows erupting in her smoke filled room
That familiar smell of nicotine always fills her arrivals and departures
She is smiling her disasters and worries
Blurry and bleary with her intensely created chicanery
Several smoke rings making up for that eluded ring
Ash will become of everything she always said in that husky voice
A vice that is a reprise in her story of lost, found and lost again
She is on a cigarette mission of emotional drain
Cigarette is her flag of triumph slowly burning away in vain
It’s the pen of her tale of pure happiness in the scenes of disdain.

-For the one who holds on to a cigarette like her ticket to a moment of peace



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