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Smoke

Today is one of the days I feel like smoke. Choking myself.... bottling every feeling, not allowing myself to breathe. Covering everything with white ashes, turning things monotonous...black and white. I am not kerosene yet. I am not kerosene yet...it never corrodes, it forms impenetrable layers… not allowing a chance for reversal. Not letting down a breathe, excluding from every other thing... I am not kerosene. Yet. I am not even wrapped in a warm blanket. I am cold. I'm cold. Sitting in smoking temperatures, I am cold. Frozen. Numb. Insensitive. Not wrapped in a warm blanket, I sit cold.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2022




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Book: Reflection on the Important Things