i open my window and the evening summer breeze rolls in hastily.
there's no scents of jasmine or white musk-nor were there any signs of exotic fruit.
rather, i was surrounded by the scent of faint cigarette smoke, with a slight tint of rain. as-well as a persistent, lingering trail of campfire.
growing up with a father who smoked was tough and i would always bug him to quit, which eventually he did. the scent of cigarette smoke takes me back to when time was non-existent and all that was expected of me was to be back by supper.
to feel that way again without continuing the addiction gene, all i have to do is open my window. i don't expect or want to smell lavender, i want to smell cigarette smoke.
YOU ARE READING
my poetry - kelsey loch
Poetrymy personal work, all written by me - i post them here so i can reflect on myself and my writing easily. writing is my greatest passion, and i hope you love my work. all feedback is appreciated!
