they think it’s the smoke
I crave most
but it’s not
it’s the feeling after,
that soft untangling of the mind,
like the world finally loosens
its grip around my throat
like silence becoming warm enough
to sit beside,
some people fall in love
to feel less alone,
I light something instead
and watch the loneliness blur
at the edges.
the smoke curls slowly,
almost human,
like it understands
things I never say aloud
and for a moment,
everything hurts quieter
my thoughts stop racing each other,
my chest forgets its heaviness,
and the night feels less
like something to survive
maybe that’s why I return to it,
not for escape
but for the illusion
that peace can be inhaled,
because sometimes
a rolled-up flame
feels easier to hold
than my own feelings
and maybe that’s dangerous,
to mistake temporary calm
for healing
but still,
on certain nights,
with the room dim
and my mind exhausted,
the smoke feels
too much like comfort
to say no to it
May 8
May 8, 2026 at 11:23 AM UTC
they think it’s the smoke
I crave most
but it’s not
it’s the feeling after,
that soft untangling of the mind,
like the world finally loosens
its grip around my throat
like silence becoming warm enough
to sit beside,
some people fall in love
to feel less alone,
I light something instead
and watch the loneliness blur
at the edges.
the smoke curls slowly,
almost human,
like it understands
things I never say aloud
and for a moment,
everything hurts quieter
my thoughts stop racing each other,
my chest forgets its heaviness,
and the night feels less
like something to survive
maybe that’s why I return to it,
not for escape
but for the illusion
that peace can be inhaled,
because sometimes
a rolled-up flame
feels easier to hold
than my own feelings
and maybe that’s dangerous,
to mistake temporary calm
for healing
but still,
on certain nights,
with the room dim
and my mind exhausted,
the smoke feels
too much like comfort
to say no to it
