The Blatant Release

She smokes because it's the only way to exhale the demons that consume her lungs. A blatant release, though temporary, it remains effective. The stress that was capable of over throwing her right mind, now creases and engulfs her once youthful being. Filled with many tales to tell, there is one, more important that pertains to her decision to fill her lungs with a thick, foreign marinade. As your eyes take a promenade down every deteriorating hill that is etched into her face, you will notice a pair of puckered lips pressing out the steamy remains of the tar that will soon devour her lungs. The sweet smoke curls like fingers which beckon to come closer. And as the ashes drifted from the cigarette, she could feel the weight of a ghost occupying the once empty space between her fingertips. Though aged and dignified, the youth still remains as it courses through the rings placed upon her fingers and pulses outward in a scatter across her brain.