Day by day
night by night
I was self- conscious and cynic.
leaning forward on my balcony from the fifth floor,
watching the cigarette burn in between my fingers
holding in the smoke
letting it find its own way out.
Home from a long day-
I'm not sure if I can even call this home.
I'm still in the clothes I wore to work.
15 Years old, what the hell am I doing,
smoking this cigarette like an everyday routine.
I finally feel the burn, deadly burning down my throat,
willing to fight the pain all alone.
I can only hear Bobby's voice echoing my night,
'smoking again?' he asks, with a disappointed frame.
The wind knocks the cigarette right off my hand
letting it fall down to the ground
all the way to the first floor.
The light in the end still hasn't died yet,
and i just stand there
watching it burn to death
This is the perspective of Taylor Laurent, my main character in my novel-
so don't be mistaking- Because it's only her words, not mine.