yes i smoke

i smoke to put something in my hand

to replace the same place your hand used to rest

so maybe its a force of habit

yes i smoke

just to keep something warm near me

because most things are painfully cold lately.

You made so many promises that you didn't keep
You bought me this promise ring
It used to fit so perfectly.
And it used to shine, just like your promises
I find it funny now that we're finished,
This ring no longer fits.

What a funny thing.

Hello?
Who am I?
Guess again.
Don't you recognise my voice?
No?
Why?
Well, you can hang up,
It's your choice.
But I just wanted to call
for old times sake.
You know:
Those times where we'd talk
at times we shouldn't have been awake.

Are you still there?
Can you hear me?
Oh, right.
You don't remember me.
Maybe I have the wrong number.
Well, I guess I'm sorry.

But before you let me go,
There's just one thing
I want you to know.
At the end of December,
when the mountains meet the snow.
I'll think of you, as always,
and I'll remember.
How it was me,
who once heard
your hellos.

She is the raven queen from way north of Orleans
The kinda girl who can party
Her dark silken hair eyes wide when they glare
And lips formed of crushed cherries

With men she could see how very easily
Her form could tempt them a stray
With a twirl of her hips a kiss from them lips
They fell like dominoes

Every night she would go
To the hipest disco and stalk the bar all night
Her raven good looks she knew what she took
Was more than any woman could want

But like every tale that's told
This raven got bold
And one night she got her wings clipped
In the shape of a man who just didn't understand
The need for her to preen

No matter her dance or the voice she command
He was not for turning
Fustration set in and as the night wore thin
She found the last steps to much

And as the moonlight did gaze
Her head was a haze of mixed love and true feelings
So this wouldn't do for the raven so true
And darkness once again she fled

when your cold
fingers get the
chance, let their
haunting abilities
of ink dance
across the fine
white of paper
and choreograph
what it's like
to dance in
the vast nothingness
of an inevitability
you were too
curious to prolong.

You use to make me so happy.
And, I'm ashamed to admit that after everything that's happened,
the thought of you still does.