A Girl Shouldn't Smoke

A Girl Shouldn’t Smoke

She places the filter between her lips.
A flicker of the lighter and she inhale.
It creeps to back and moves its back to the front.
Out comes the smoke; clouding her in sophistication.

The accumulation of stress causes her to be the mistress,
Where on occasions she takes a step out, and tries to ingest a moment of relaxation.
Clouded fatigue and dull grey eyes,
Life could only be harmonized for a short five minutes.

Pressing her lips to kiss distress, like a moment of intimacy seen on the screen.
They’re lovers, but she’s slowly taking the life out of him.
Their lips part, and she holds puts the light aside between two fingers with much vanity.
Only to flick off the excess ashes, to lighten her load.

Glancing from the side of my eyes,
Curiosity is best describe, why I can’t look away,
Yet without a word to say.
Slowly peaking into intimacy as the smoke caress her.

Though my eyes could not look away, I was not impressed.
As the smoke confine her fine lines, clouded scars, and hid reality.
She stares at the haze like an old friend,
And slowly watches them depart; never to been seen again.

She takes the last drag, the ashes memorialized itself.
Flicking the filter aside, she steps back in, only to come back again.