Seeping, lingering through like the smell of cigarettes
I cannot lie nor can I tell you the truth.
But still that resentment burned slow
Steady, then fast like puffed cigarettes.
Held to promises made from innocence
Haunts my mind like the ghost of cigarettes.
Choked by the smell like strong hands gripped and clinging to my throat
Flicking off those dead cigarettes.
Does Karma have a play in your current state?
Tossed and confined to the side of a street, like those cigarettes?
La’quwajah Fulton is a soon to be graduate of Bloomfield College of Montclair State University. She is a Creative Writing major who loves to grow plants, herbs and words. She also has a creative nonfiction piece in Issue 10 of Narrative Northeast.
