My breath crystallizes against the window,

as I watch the season trudge on by,

cigarettes fill my lungs,

coating them with tar, no doubt,

but each thought of impending death

is whispered away with each exhale.

In a sense, I feel healed, whole

from the tattered lungs within my chest.

It is said you could die, smoking these things,

I say bring it on, I don’t care

Each inhale is like thousands of

diamonds exploding in my mind.

The true beauty in this,

is often my thoughts as they get wrapped

around this feeling I get whenever

he walks into my life.

And how easily he exits, ‘

leaving me with broken wings that

no amount of Red Bull could ever salvage.

One, two, three

and I flick the cigarette out the window,

climbing down from the sill

with the only remnants of my forbidden

activity the scent of smoke upon my shirt.

Please note: This photo was drawn by me. And this poem is about him, my character that I’m writing a novel about.


About Siofra |Nathifa|

A Druid and a Kemetic Pagan. I have studied Celtic Traditions, European Shamanism, the Fairy Faith, Native American Traditions, Wicca, Witchcraft and have explored New Age beliefs. I guess you could say I'm eclectic, but right now my focus is on Druidry and Kemetic Traditions. I am by no means, an expert in any of these interests. I am also a Bard in training.
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