Smoke words every day.

The world of me ⁣⁣is still being born⁣⁣Stillborn ideas ⁣⁣and a guilty bond⁣⁣My tragedy is visible ⁣⁣only to those who⁣⁣come alive in the⁣⁣the absence⁣⁣of chaos ⁣⁣while its cunning children⁣⁣wreck havoc in me with ⁣⁣a smile⁣⁣⁣⁣I never live an ideal day⁣⁣yet its hope kills me every day⁣⁣I always wind up waiting for her⁣⁣even if her wings…