Puff, puff, puff
Watching my death blow from my mouth
I feel it settling in
Making me feel like the world is in hyperfocus
Details find their way to the surface
I stare at the ceiling as it feels like the world is swaying
I wish I was staying
Falling and I can't find my grace
I let my fingers fumble with the next mistake
Each puff and I feel dead
To each their own aphrodisiac

i am ignited,
flames of fear lapping at my feet.
i try to cry out, to ask for help
but ash fills my mouth.
bitter,
much like my regard for myself.
mind made of matches, i am my own arsonist.

The day you broke my heart
I was confused
You made me think I had a chance
a chance to love you
or maybe
a chance for you to love me back