Sep 8, 2017
dappled lungs
of course i remember my first cigarette it made the bourbon less bitter a band-aid for my lonely 19th-- just those same Djarum Blacks for months & months of nicotine melting into tranquil white snow, and drowned in spring puddles, eventually burnt to a crisp in a psychotic sunset. Now they’re leaving a trail in my wake; puddle cigs, cigs down the sewer grates, buried in blades of grass, conjuring ghosts of parallel loners. And they exhale prayers to the quietest Gods: Keep me warm, keep me sane, keep me moving.
