The Boys Who Smoke in Bathrooms

I have doubted the significance of truth in my body by being in the toilet of my medical college
I have inhaled the truth of the boys and men - who are too afraid to be themselves -
in the smoke of their cigarette.


I have coughed every time I have taken in the frustration that comes out of the puff of the smoke.
The smoke going in and coming out - cleansing their bodies of the tar of the world inside of them -
giving them the tar of this world instead.

We give smokers too much tar already.

My cough does not signify my cleanliness, or the fact that I am good.
If I were good, I wouldn’t cough. I would let the smokers be. I wouldn’t give the option of tar vs. tar.
The world is too superficial to give any benefit of the doubt to the hurt that comes with choice.

I choose to cough.
They choose to smoke.

Both of us rejecting the world in our own ways
Both of us escaping the hurt in our own ways.

Them by smoking

And me by doubting the significance of the truth that resides in my body.

Its all tar anyway.