Puffs of Smoke

Lost and confused, I light a joint;
Minding over matter with no point.
With the first suck of distress,
The poignant past is triggered.
Opening of dagger of bitterness,
It is jabbed until pain is heard.
The fume is held long enough
Ignoring the shortness of breath.
Then it is whispered out in despair
With well-timed rings of death.
The second smoke is breathed in
For the sake of temporary relief.
But the cuts driving deep within,
The hapless mind is in disbelief.
The final gush of smoke is inhaled
Wishing for a tiny bit of solace.
But the heartbeats are overburdened
By poisonous vapors of disgrace.
For the end of ageless torment to begin
The soul concedes to depart from the skin.

©Amit Herlekar

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