letting angels fall.

preface ❤️

I like cigarettes. Not just because they take my mind off of things but it's a gateway, I suppose.

A gateway to what?

Well, then. You'd have to ask yourself what a gateway really means to you.

A gateway to me is an opening, just like the end of this Brunette. It's more than a drag. More than a puff. More than the smoke that makes sweet love to your mouth after you suck in for what seems like hours and hours and hours.

It's what leaves you numb. What leaves you complacent. Silly even.

It's better than being a wino, I'll tell you that gracefully.

But the thing about gateways is that you never turn back. And that's quite the upsetting detail about it all. The swell thing is you've got everything else ahead of you and wether you like it or not it's gonna slip through your fingers in a matter of seconds. Who would appreciate a thing like that, huh?

I would. Because it is a choice I made instead of sitting in the depths of 1942 waiting on a man that might not even be alive, for all heaven knows. There isn't much for women like me to look back on anyways. So, I have no problem looking forward to fifties.

I'm no addict.

I'm a gateway.

I'm afraid that you, dear, may never return back.