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She'd become
Her whisper
The wind incarnate
CHANGE
It is said that a change is as good as a holliday
i breathed you in
and filled my lungs
with every ash of you
inhaling every smoke of you
they say i’ll get sick
they say i’ll die
of too much cigarettes
but they didn’t know
i’ll die if i breathed you out





—you, my cigarette
version 2 of my previous poem, puff
Her  smile was hatred
coated as happiness and love
Not everyone who smiles as you is your friend!!
Know the ones who really mean it
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