Walking away, down the sterile halls
And through the loud, push-bar doors
Into the open quad and grey cold,
Crossed and back inside to the closest bathroom,
Vacant and unopposed, I light a cigarette alone.
I am too young to have this moment,
But it is mine and I seize it,
For every event in my restlessness
Must burn unique, bespoke, anything
Other than reality as presented.
I like my steak well done and dark,
Bitter flavors over sweet,
The looming pall as thunders warn.
It is hard to find myself alive,
On green days under blue skies,
When I lust after storm.
© SXT 2023