poetry. not too amazing, but pretty good for me.

My nose burns-
the jasmine fills my lungs
and pinches my mind.
When the cigarettes reach,
the sting turns to shock
and then there I am 
drowning in the thickness
hearing a language
I do not understand.
My ears fill with chatter 
dodging the warm bodies filling
a cold white corridor-
the buzzing of electricity
above me-
beneath my feet,
carpet-
green with the likeness
of a cocktail olive.
At last I find the door
then with short,
wheezing breath,
I sit.


Cheers!
love, Maddie Violet