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I smell the cigarette smoke
Marlboro Red, long cut.
Part of it makes me feel like I'm home.
the other part makes me what to leave home.
it's a swirl of past, present, and I hope not of future.
the smell is strong, I can smell it in my sheets
in my clothes
in my brain
in my skin.
it's not actually there,
But I can still smell it.
YOU ARE READING
the poems from the heart.
Poesíai write from the heart, words spill out as i type mindlessly, i love to write, and if you're like me, or even not at all. enjoy the words i share, and find love in mine.
