rideau

i have forced myself to give up so much. i swore to myself that it was the path to better things. it's all gone now. it burns into thin air with every cigarette i smoke. i take some back, and push as much of it as i can out. questioning myself now; i am lost in a sea of people. the stars were replaced by city lights, the cigarette smoke with stale air. my flight lands at an airport everyday; and everyday it's the same feeling that creeps up my throat.