I know I should quit smoking,
But sometimes I think
I see your face in the smoke.
I don't, though.
It looks like what it is.
But, I still think of you
When I see it.

I blame the namesake
Of my eventual death's
And your parents'
Cause and byproduct
(respectively, of course,)
On the correlation
Between "ashes,"
And, "Ashley."

Maybe there is no connection?
Maybe I was
Already thinking about you?
Like when you heard thunder,
And thought of me?

Regardless, time for
Another cigarette.

She said, "I thought you liked being alone."

He said, "I also said I like the cold,

But I still shiver."

I have plans of leaving here.
I've got my passport being processed,
And job applications waiting to be called on.
I've found a basement apartment
(Which are very expensive in Toronto,)
And I know the bus routes,
But I'll probably just get a bike.

I found all of this while you were gone.
I'm not sure of the connection,
But I'm confident in claiming
That I'm only here because of you.
You left for two weeks,
And I found a new life.
You're home for a day,
And I reconsider.

You're home for a week,
And I loathe the idea of leaving.
You stayed home tonight,
And I loathed not having left.

i don't remember much from last night.
i remember going to the bar with greasy food and cheap drinks,
and flirting with the bartender, because i find homophobia amusing.
there was something about starting a scooter, and a very illegal drive home.

i woke to find an empty bottle of something or another, a case of bud ice,
and shiner blonde.

i've always had a thing for blondes.

i can still taste the fast food i must've had,
and can feel what was probably a full pack of cigarettes in my chest.
i left myself another pack, a coke, and some aspirin on my windowsill.
i'm so considerate.
i'll make a note to apologize to my liver, later.
maybe once the pounding goes away.

i've never believed in god, but if there's one thing worth blessing,
it's college night.

I wake hearing the
Dog scratch, but I hope its you
Turning the door ****.

I DON'T KNOW WHAT YOU
ARE THINKING AND IT'S KILLING
ME, but I don't mind.

The morning you woke
Up and kissed me is the reas-
on I won't give up.

You make me feel like
A seventeen year old girl.
It's good to feel, though.

I'd be happy you're
Home, but instead of my fail-
ures, I think of you.

You are a vampire.
When you are near me, you drain
Me of all I am.

I wish I played an
Instrument, so I could make
You feel how I feel.

i write haikus for
a girl who probably won't
read any of them.

clouds may have silver
linings, but that doesn't mean
they don't block out stars