To The Chain Smoker

like the cigarette smell
on my shirt
you are
on my mind
(and who knows where else).

All it took
was a stick
was a look
was a smile.

Precisely the two things
I told myself to stay away from.

I don’t know why I even tried.
Maybe it was the novelty
the rebelliousness
the aesthetics (oh you certainly had that)
the curiosity.

But it was
(well was it really?)
worth the risk.
Those short drags and puffs
those long conversations
were exhilarating.
Perhaps it was the feeling
of being dangerously alive–
of being.

Until the cigarette burnt down to filter
as did the conversation.

I choked on smoke and words.
I didn’t know how to make it last long.
Too many puffs
too much of words
all at once.

It burnt out
too soon
leaving nothing
but the faint tobacco smell
on my shirt
and you
on my mind
(and who knows where else)


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avatar About Rz Fortajada

Rz is a 20 year-old Organizational Communication student of UP Manila. Poems are rare for her, as she believes in inspiration being elusive. She spends her free time sleeping in the library, then spends her sleepless nights writing self-centered blogs and reading.

For chronicles of her life in painful detail, and other off the wall topics, visit her blog at

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