And these years turn into moments as I see my memories fade
Just as the smoke from my lips slowly wisps toward the ceiling;
Hazy, and seeming to slowly deteriorate as they venture forth.

As moments once seemed so vivid and real
I see them vanishing before my eyes in a cloud of bittersweet nostalgia
Never to return but only in those blissful moments when the smoke just barely releases from it's hold in my lungs.

And if I were to remember this moment as my fingers translate my thoughts into words,
Maybe I wouldn't feel so sad.