The reason I can't stand the smell of Tobacco.
Now I know what you're thinking.
"This is just another anti cigarette speech."
"Another flawed yet to be proven commercial."
"Another WARNING label."
Calm down, slow you're breathing. I do not hate it for the same reason.
I hate the smell, because it reminds me of the times I hid myself in my room.
It reminds me of all those times I wished I was someone else.
Tobacco smoke smells like poison.
The kind of poison that screams my name from the past.
The kind of poison that sends me into a spiral—
Poison that reminds me that faces can be blurred with time.
Tobacco reminds me of the prison walls I stared at when I couldn't think of a reason to leave bed.
Tobacco reminds me of the screaming I used to hear while trying to sleep. Don't you dare open yours eyes because then they'll know you're awake and you'll be the next thing they scream at.
Smoke reminds me of the itchy beard with lips of a viper and the fangs of a cobra. It reminds me of why I think I'm so stupid.
I remember the day that same viper pinned down my mother, placing the palms of her hands against her shoulders and screamed at her.
I remember my brother. He was crying, his eyes begged for someone to save us.
I was the only thing he could grab onto.
Smoke reminds me of why, it took me so long for me to remember my 6th birthday.
And to this day, now, I am 17 years old.
I still hate the smell of tobacco.
Because it reminds me of hurt.
Hurt in my lungs.
Hurt in my brain, hurt in my veins.
Hurt, hurt, hurt.
That's all I feel when I see a picture of him.
His patchy beard and red hair.
Hurt.
But even after all that hurt,
I can still see through the smoke when I see a cigarette.
I know, it will not suffocate me forever.
YOU ARE READING
Sickening Poetry
PoetryJust a poem book, mostly small, short poems. Maybe a big poem here and there but This is just for fun. Nothing serious.
