She smells sweet,
like roses,
laced with,
cigarette smoke.
Lips soft,
like petals,
and a lingering,
taste of tobacco.
Eyes so blue,
like the sky,
but more at night.
Like her hair,
seemingly darker,
than a cat,
on the same path.
She breathes,
poison into,
my lungs,
I inhale,
and huff,
her in.

I spit my tongue,
right out,
on the cold tile floor,
I couldn’t taste it.
You stared at me,
and it,
me,
it,
horrified,
practically disgusted.
“I thought,
that was gum,”
you said,
bewildered,
basically out of breath.
I would have answered,
but shrugged instead.

Once,
I fell in love,
with a ghost,
which wasn't as much,
a mistake,
as it was,
a mystery.
She promised,
she would always,
be there,
but by habit,
she faded away,
gradually.
As I screamed,
begged,
pleaded.
I couldn't,
grab her hand,
it wasn't really,
ever there.
That was when,
I fell in love,
with a ghost,
but she didn't,
fall for me.