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May 2013
The smell of *** lingers
on my damp skin
as I sit silently on the porch,
watching as the ashes of the
burning cigarette in my hand
disappear into the wind.

I take another drag,
the smoke veiling
my face as I exhale.

I discard the spent Marlboro
and continue to stare into
the indecipherable blackness.

It is during times like this
I become inherently aware
of how alone I really am.
Liza
Written by
Liza
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