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Holly Nov 2019
You
I nursed a dying flame, hoping if I gave myself to it wholeheartedly it could burn again.
Holly Nov 2019
Her passion lit the fire at the end of his lipstick stained cigarette,
smoking it was like kissing her all over again.
The smoke burnt his eyes and scratched his throat,
attempting to breathe but the oxygen wasn't there.
She suffocated him.

Their love like a cigarette, set alight and raised to rebellious lips.
Their romantic tragedy reminded him of smoking in the rain,
it was painfully beautiful yet short lived.
She became his addiction, little by little she consumed him.
If only he could quit her,
his lungs would not ache when he's alone.

Unlike his cigarettes, she didn't come with a warning label on the cover.
She did more damage to him than the cigarettes ever could.

So, he left her and returned to his lipstick stained cigarettes.
She left a hole in him no amount of nicotine could ever fill.
He got sick of the taste of cigarettes and how they reminded him of her kiss,
now he lights the cigarettes just to watch them burn.
Holly Nov 2019
The night sky was on fire,
the flames stole your constellations
but it’s still you I admire.
I’m still waiting for an explanation,
as to why the smoke has taken the blue from your eyes.

— The End —