you grew up with the smell of cigarette smoke
you get used to the smell of cigarettes
after growing up with it
you side-eye your relatives
as they light up yet another
but you inhale the smoke
and poison your own lungs
almost masochistically
almost comfortingly
you let the stench
stain your clothes
and sleep with them
pressed against your face
you burn incense
it fogs up the whole house
you light up stick after stick
just to bring back that sensation
of smoke, cigarette smoke
it's hard to breathe,
the scent is strong
it's safer than smoking
and getting addicted
to the nicotine
but you're already addicted, aren't you
as much as you hate it,
the smell is fond to you
it reminds you of
your grandmothers house
watching movies
and eating spaghetti
it reminds you of
your uncle
riding in his car
blasting music
and getting existential
it reminds you of
your brother
your older brother
you've always looked up to him
you've always wanted to be
just like him
and now he's killing himself
they all are
and they do it
right in front of you
and you inhale the smoke
the cigarette smoke
and let it stain
your clothes
your sheets
your soul
you
