Smoke

CW HW

 I sit out side in the pitch dark. The night air smells like the Burning paper of my Newport. I see the silk sky lit by the stars. Dark clouds drift by partly blocking the stars. It is almost as they are playing a game of peek a boo on my tired mind. My thoughts change with every exhale of smoke and alter my mood. I hear people laughing in the distant and realize how I envy their joy. I simply sigh and light another one. For some odd reason my butt is cold. This could be due to the steps metal trimming. On the other hand my arms are warm. People say its my temper but I honestly don't know what to believe. The only satisfying thing of this night is the dull menthol taste in my mouth. I can feel the smoke swirl around in my lungs and settle in my chest. When I exhale its like a gust of fog rolling off a river bed. Its like the smoke goes into my body and soaks up the stress then releases it into the world. I'm aware it kills you but so do feelings. They both kill you on the inside but at least one makes me happy. I glimpse up and see lightning in the distant and smelled the rain coming. I feel that sadistic satisfaction when the weather matches your moo. So I grin a slight grin and light another cigarette.