rite aid was out of maverick red 100s;
they only had shorts.
i had to buy a pack of newports
and the thought of shedding you
made me tremble as i slid my card.
yes, i switched from your menthols
back to my reds and yes, i kept your brand.
the other day i walked into my room
and the scent of cigarettes took me back,
back to the times of us sharing cigarette
after cigarette and i began to cry.
i called my therapist but she didn’t pick up.
the thought of quitting smoking crosses my mind
on at least a weekly basis, but i refuse to let you
ruin an agent of death i held in my hand
even before you came along.
i will not stop and i will continue to shed
the strongest tears for you.
I fell in love with
a life so outside
of my own head;
I never know what
I want these days.
My thoughts scare me
so I tune them out
and try to live hedonistically.
When I am alone at night
I am left with them
and my arm often
ends up in tatters.
I don’t listen to myself.
I don’t know myself
and I don’t think I want to.
I exist only in relation to others
and my ignored thoughts
will torture me in death.
from the back of my mind
dust you off
when i read us
were you maybe
between the spaces
there would come a time
you'd have to leave
arm to arm
and far too
on my own
on the run
it's been years
will it ever pass/change/end
do you remember telling time by stars? and trading places at dawn?
how are you? do you miss your grandpa? how's life?
will we ever be ok?
i miss you.