Late Nights and Early Mornings

The smoke catches a ride with the wind.
It's faster.
Faster than it usually is.
It tricks your mind.
It kicks you into overdrive.
There's a reason cigarettes come in packs.
They are lonely. 
They are meant to burn slowly.
To be dragged with care and concentration.
The smoke is supposed to drift away from your mouth
Like lovers' lips after a kiss goodbye.
Then it goes into the atmosphere.
Floats towards eternity.
But no matter who's mouth it leaves,
It will be forgotten.
It will never feel significant.
No one will feel anything.
Tomorrow is coming but it's crashing into yesterday.
Time.
It seems like it's moving faster.
Faster than it usually is.