I really like this one. For some reason on my first read I thought of some dark, damp alley with Sin City type cinematography...with a cold figure sucking on the cigarette. Anyway...it encourages good imagery. 

Such a good title, probably the thing I like best about it. I also very much like the image it conveys, and the feeling it refers to is very relatable. That sense of tiredness you often get that makes the very act of living feel like a chore. You look at the smoke coming out of your cigarette, and wonder if it could work faster. Now, while I think you do have a point to be made and an image to convey, in my opinion the poem is sorely lacking structure. I doesn't even have to rhyme, just make better use of a metric and try to give it rhythm so it can flow. It would elevate it so much, because now it feels like a very promising brainstorm exercise, but not really like a poem. 



A sizzle and a sigh spouting smog

Stress diminishes into cold numbness

A stray hand rubs at wrinkles too old

To belong to one so young.


Smoke swirls, snaking around fingers

And fades into the evening air.

Sometimes I wonder what to expect.

Maybe this will end my life one day.


Some days I wish it worked faster.


Sizzle and sigh.


[1](https://oc.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/57x4bc/perfection_is_ethereal_the_look_is_ephemeral/d8wdh7g)

[2](https://oc.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/57zr9r/weary_borrowers/d8wc6m4)

Cherry and Charcoal