Stubbed
by Tilok Adnan
This is a drag;
the thought -
the whiff of billowing
smoke trails
however minute
is a titan that pulls
at my limbs.
I have never felt
so torn; toasted -
roasting myself for
my own habits.
An addict for the small,
fleeting crackles
that remind me of
conversations.
An addict for being the observer,
observant of my surroundings,
contemplating philosophies
of the every day
man.
Filtered.
Butted.
Stubbed.
Editor: Shaira Afrida Oyshee
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