Lighting a cigarrete and watching it come to life, wishing I could just light my soul the same way.
Feeling the smoke flowing through my lounges, filling them and watching the smoke leave my mouth, filling the room and vanishing and I remember that I am empty, alone.
No one except for people like me can know that feeling, the feeling of being in a room full of people yet feeling lonely.
As the smoke goes through my lounges again and again and again until I am no more And all that is left is the memory.
