As you hang out of your sticker filled window at 12am, lighting a tobacco cigarette
I question your motives
I patiently watch the ash detach itself from the end of the cancer causing glow
Through the wind it flies, amongst the whistling gaps of dying grey trees
It's winter now and things are cold, yet the glinting cigarette is diffusing heat into your large palms
I silently demand a reason why someone so beautiful would commit such a ***** crime to their lungs
But I can see the look in your autumn filled brown eyes, I can see the loneliness
And the more I inquisite, the more I know that our love is the careless cigarette

You are the ash drifting away from me
I am the ash hopelessly falling for you
You are the tobacco holding a great taste for adventure
I am the tobacco to fill your missing void
You are the nicotine that creates my addiction
I am the nicotine that shows persistence and annoyance
You are the glow that shows the spark in my eyes
I am the glow that is slowly wasting away
You are the tar that is clogging my heart the way lungs are filled
I am the tar that slowly kills one

The chances of smoking killing you are fairly high, yet some luckily dodge the illnesses accustomed to it

I am dying of a broken heart, but you

you

are the lucky one

I love the way you laugh cheekily through your lungs like a young child visiting the park for the first time in Autumn

I hate the way you laugh squeakily through your intoxicated lungs like a misbehaved child harassing other children at the park in Winter

I love the way you walk with a spring of contentedness oblivious to the despair surrounding you

I hate the way you walk with a spring of arrogance not caring about anybody inferior

I love the way your dimples appear as storms as your smile spreads across your face resembling the ocean

I hate the way your crooked dimples attack your bitter teeth like daggers

I love the way you talk so passionately about nothing that matters at all, something so insignificant

I hate the way you talk so ignorantly about everything that doesn't matter in the slightest

I love the way you analyse things with such interrogation and adventure like the youth hunting for their Christmas presents early

I hate the way you over-analyse situations that are not linked to you in any way

I love you

I hate you

**I hate the way I really ******* love you

Stop acting like you never did anything wrong
just because I've finally moved on

*I'm happier without you

You gave me a Friday feeling continuously
Yet I was your Monday morning blues

I incorporated a substantial amount of effort to reveal my love
You thought I was persistent

I arrived on time after anxiously waiting around all morning
You turned up carelessly late to minimise time

We laid upon your bed huddling like innocent penguins to keep warm
I was oblivious to what the upcoming week would bring

I lost the love note which held only a lie
I threw away your lighter as the spark had vanished, just like ours did
Your comforting clothes and plush toy are now doubtlessly collecting dust and cigarette fumes from inside of your closet
You furiously broke the bracelet which I gave to you in pride
You deleted our memories held in pictures
You replaced me in less than 24 hours, so I thought

The truth is, so the fault in our stars quote, I fell in love the way you fall asleep, slowly; and then all at once

I had thought previously that you no longer required my unconditional attention
However I fail to believe this when you are knocking at my door at 3am whilst you're calling out to me in my dreams
I fail to believe this when you start conversations late at night, when thoughts are deep and emotions are raring

Whether we were once magnets facing the attracting way, or you were just a lost soul in need for company I shall never know
But what I do know of, is that today is the day I am fine and content, and one day you will be hurting just like I once was

I ask myself a plethora of questions as I lay weeping on my bed in the pursuit of crying myself to sleep at night.
I ask myself how you're so untouched by the ordeal of my pain, by which you have inflicted upon me.

How is it that someone can mean so much to you, or at least act like they do, and then stab you in the back, heart and stomach; simultaneously? How is it that someone can neglect your feelings so quickly and selectively? How is it that someone can jeopardize all that you've had and been through just for one insignificant, worthless moment?

These are just a small selected amount of questions that penetrate my ill, mind.

But it's your fault. Entirely. And I will blame you for eternity, infinity and furthermore endlessly.

From young, innocent specimens we are persistently told that hurting other people is immoral, so why are certain beings so immune and untouched to the pain that they inflict? Why are certain beings so rash within their decisions and therefore their actions? But most of all... How is it fair that specific humans are so untouched by their barbaric and murderous actions?

You might be untouched by my affliction, but at least I am in touch with my morals.

**Guilt will drown you but the current will move me on.