We are monsters who lurk in shadows and every minute I spend denying this is a private condemnationMature

I find myself smoking clove cigarettes on the fire escape.
I do not know when I rose from the bed and shed the blankets
at my feet like all the things I can’t say when the sunlight
stains everything. It doesn’t matter - soon, this fire escape
and these walls will be a memory I sometimes walk by on the street.

The filter leaves a gentle taste on my lips and I am reminded
of all the times you’ve kissed me with clove cigarettes still on your lips
and even in the darkness I do not feel safe like I used to.
Some things do not need light in order to grow.

The End

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