I never quit smoking so I can taste the bitterness in my mouth, then I never get this illusion of sweet taste of possibilities which may take place in my life.
I never leave my cigarette away, so nothing tastes what they wanted to me to taste, I want to have the taste of this cloudy, edgy, foggy, numb, light, and a little brightness on the top of it, it is not shiny it is just light, as light as the world could be not more not less.
I can see through it and not more, I get the taste of the real days.
They say it shortens the life’s length. So what? What is going to happen after the shortage of my life which I’ll maybe miss?
Life is completed by the time; my cigarette decides to end. I am certain about it.
It helps me to lose my aggressive appetite for foods which I rather not to have, so I don’t get the pleasure of being filled and satisfied with this unworthy dirt barrier.
It stops me for having an invalid sex which I rather not to go for.
It helps me not to drink alcohol as much as I desire,
It balances my life and it gives me the pleasure of my lonesome, it is just about me and it, and the cute little light and the nice cloud takes me to my own charming dreams which are not possible to come true in this earth for every certain cause.
It is my prayer to my soul, my God.
It is my intend to see through its ashes left. These ashes are: The ruins of my time, which has passed by, the ruins of my laughter which has ended. the ruins of my tears which have gone, the ruins of my childhood which has left, the ruins of my youth which has busted , the ruins of the sunrise which has disappeared, the ruins of my womb which had given birth, the ruins of my shadow which has stopped coming with me in the dark side of my life, the ruins of my homeland which has destroyed. the ruins of my never ending dreams till ( it )decides to end; of course with my true companionship.
saloume nakhsaz
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