Of cigarettes and smokes.

I smoke whenever,
I've wished for something else.
But I love it more than anything.
It's like I can see,
order shaping into chaos,
makes me feel like God,
sitting in a mundane field with friends,
asking me questions,
which I don't reply,
I'm shy.
I don't deny.
But step into my head,
there's something which is alive,
not dead yet,
Like the ancient tombs of Egypt,
a hope to be reborn.
I see myself in the smokes,
people around are so shy,
in theirs mind,
I'm loud,
I shout,
It's whisper rather,
when it's out.

Can you find me in my words
or rather in my mind,
I wonder how I'd let myself be defined?!

©pen_and_paper