The scent of smoke became locked in clothes
While walking and then talking about God
And about friends and parents and school.
All of which lasted for almost three hours.
I'm a mess on the inside and my outsides
Are not even worth mentioning either.
But when there is very little room for added thought
I just want them to know I can change.
And it's all so clear to me that when I write this
I write it just in case she might read it
And know that I'm mulling things over
At two thirty AM on a Monday.
So I wonder if she notices the smell of the smoke
Or knows the weight she lifted from me
Just for making sure I knew she believes in me
Even when everybody else seems to fall away.