The sunset

here by the window

I die a little


every sunset

with a cigarette in my right hand


this is where I meet

with my restless,

my anxious,

my lonely,

my most volnurable


the soft spot

my breath refuses to reach

if it was not for the smoke


I lay my hands on the window frame

in all honesty

to look for you


I inhale the transformation

to survive

as the air turns cold

and the trees dark


I pinch the cigarette

like I crush a slatey rock as heavy as my heart

hoping for the light to return

with the hope

for just one more stroke


and if you should ever become uncertain

there is a small light

right here in my hand

even though it is hard to see

at night


but a new dawn will be

another chance to live

to the end

to end

another cigarette



Related Blogposts

Non scholae sed vitae Multible entrances to make sure that there is real a learning environment for all. I dream of an educational system, that connects the working industry more. I am hoping that the industry and educational environment collaborate. The educational system should have a place for all Forbundethed…

The wind She was born out in the wild, wide ocean She loves to play among the waves, in the trees and along the sandy shores She can be light as a cool breeze but also furious as a typhoon She moves in unpredictable patterns and can be seen in…