Smoke is just colored air

I can’t explain
why everything changes so suddenly-
like it happens with the sound of crunching snow
under my feet,
or one drag of a cigarette.
It happens in the time it takes to hide
behind upturned, grinding exposed teeth
as I lie about not being submerged
in my own doubt;
we are drowned daily in restrained cacophonies.
I wish we could ride the shockwaves
of nuclear bombs exploding underwater,
in suburban homes,
and slums and schools,
in silence,
as if Earth were on mute,
but life is never as simple
as seen on tv.
I was born in your first breath,
but die curled up in the void
of where my heart once crumbled.
It makes me feel numb;
like the whole point of living is to suffer
until we see death
as a comforting refuge
from the hideousness of existence.

Smoke is just colored air

Nathan Emery

Joined September 2009

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