your eyes blank with the dimming grey
of the cigarette that you dreamt you held now.
even if it blacks and barricades
your last air - in your last lungs.
Because it’s saving you from your
void into reality.

now the smell of pain’s smoke,
gnaws into the walls of the room you lurk in
from the insides.

spreading to suffocate the ones who
bullet this hatred into your restless head,
under your river of limp hair.

and finally it blanks your glass window so all you see
is your black hole of distort.