The Mistake

The Mistake

Late at night, feeling down

A memory surfaces, clear as day

The dancing smoke

Curling into the night

Holding back tears

The cigarette dangling from shaking fingers

Drag after drag

Inhale, exhale

Think of the smoke laughing in your lungs

A cackle that echoes to this day

Burning down to a stub

Feel the heat graze your fingers

Lay it to rest in the ash tray

A graveyard for its kind

Left with your head spinning

Tears escaping at top speed

A bitter taste in your mouth

Bite your lip

Filled up with smoke and regret

But it’s too late

The decision’s been made

And you won’t forget.

~ Bluebell Rizzi

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Queer librarian blogs mostly about books

© Felipe Adan Lerma - All Rights Reserved - Blogging at WordPress Since 2011 :)

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