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Of all the messages,
In all the bottles out at sea,
I’m glad, this one
Found its way to me.

Bonds of blood,
May be a bane or a boon.
Bonds of money n’ comfort,
May break too soon.

But bonds of love,
For the written, unspoken word,
Are whispers from the cosmos,
That lonely spirits heard.

We don’t know each other.
Just strangers in the crowd.
Few take that first step.
So, thanks for reaching out.

If it’s meant to be,
We’ll meet some day.
Maybe we already have.
Who can really say.

Even if we never did, never do,
Let’s not become a lost memory.
I hope, you’ll keep sharing,
Your beautiful gift with me.

I do have some friends,
But not many have what you do.
You’ve already helped more than some
To give credit where it’s due.

So I’ve made my decision.
This is what I say to you:
I see your friend request, and,
I’d like to be your friend too.
The initial inspiration for this was this cute little poem: https://hellopoetry.com/poem/2141137/to-you But then it found a life of its own in a more general context. You can change para 3 and it still works for many "friend requests".
The smell of cigarettes
Flows in and out
Of your coat pocket

And sometimes that hurts
Sometimes it hurts that
Although we still talk

We are no longer close
Do you know how old I am?

The wound is still fresh
I've aged, of course
But I still feel 12 years old, confused,
Excluded,
And abandoned

It still stings
When we don't have
anything to say to eachother

Still hurts
That the longest conversations we've had the past five or six years
Have been arguments

The smell of cigarettes
Follows your steps
And although I hate cigarettes
Hate the way you treat your lungs

It's calming
Because now I smell cigarettes
When you visit
And I smell them
In the arms of my closest friends
And I smell them
When people are struggling, but still getting by

I hate them
I hate the way they burn you
I hate how you know that they hurt you
And you still buy
Pack after pack
Because tobacco companies don't give a **** about about the 16 year old kid
Who's friends rely on the smoke in their chest
They don't give a **** about us
And our breath

I hate cigarettes
And I hate how
You do too
And you still can't get rid of them

I hate cigarettes
But it calms me to smell them

It calms me to know that
Things could be worse
That you've gotten better

That maybe you feel better

The smell of cigarettes
Huffs into the air
When you laugh with us
And when you joke

Do you feel better?

It seems you do, and yet
I worry
Because still you're struggling
And still your skin lays so close to bone
And you joke about it all,
But
Do you feel better?

I hate cigarettes
And I hate worrying about you,
But I have to.

Because as much as you made me cry,
You're also my brother
And when we were young
I didn't have memories without you in them

The smell of cigarettes
Is stuck in your hair
I can smell it
Even in pictures

The smell of cigarettes
Lies in your frail figure
In a smile that reaches your eyes,
And yet looks worn.
And too mature for your youth

I hate cigarettes
But the smell surrounds you.

It wafts from your being
when you acknowledge me
When you acknowledge Jupiter

and in these moments

I love the smell of cigarettes
a poem to my older brother
 Oct 2016 Elrow Swift
TK
Untitled
 Oct 2016 Elrow Swift
TK
Resurfacing,
Is the urge to run back
To a world of misery
To a world of destruction
To give up
To give in
To indulge in old bad habits
To hand over control
It would be so easy

— The End —