Sometimes,
I bemuse how long it takes myself to exhale your name
out in cigarette smoke.
Your name is like a secret that I will not
force through my vocal cords.
I will not say it any other time.
Merely,
for the fact that your name
is just as toxic as chemicals that I cradle in my lungs.
I silently let go of your name, and a simple little memory of you
each time I let the smoke escape from my chest,
and over my lips as I breathe out.
Sometimes,
I do not know if it is the smoke
or the hot air that I let out,
to be me letting go of your name.
For,
I fear that the longer it takes me to release the smoke,
is of how much I really miss saying your name out loud.
I am confused on whether
it is the length me slowly letting go of your name,
or if it is just the warm carbon dioxide of my breath.
Jan 16, 2014
Jan 16, 2014 at 11:19 PM UTC
Sometimes,
I bemuse how long it takes myself to exhale your name
out in cigarette smoke.
Your name is like a secret that I will not
force through my vocal cords.
I will not say it any other time.
Merely,
for the fact that your name
is just as toxic as chemicals that I cradle in my lungs.
I silently let go of your name, and a simple little memory of you
each time I let the smoke escape from my chest,
and over my lips as I breathe out.
Sometimes,
I do not know if it is the smoke
or the hot air that I let out,
to be me letting go of your name.
For,
I fear that the longer it takes me to release the smoke,
is of how much I really miss saying your name out loud.
I am confused on whether
it is the length me slowly letting go of your name,
or if it is just the warm carbon dioxide of my breath.
