Because you always seem to waste
my last breath,
on your first puff
of a newly lit cigarette.

And that,
kind of hurts my breathing,
kind of hurts my heart.

Because,

He fell for the red on her cigarette,
Her breath on floating dandelions,

The eyelash on her cheek,
The stretchmarks on her thighs,

The little hairs on her belly,
The way her eyebrows don't perfectly match,

The way she loved dogs more than children,
The way she stares at tree leaves swaying.

He fell for her as a whole
Not the way others had before,

And she, did not care.
She constantly fell in the sea

Of arms, that has haunted
Since her eyes began to see lust.

Drowning endlessly,
Knowing he would send her a lifeboat.

For the child never gave up.
He always followed the rainbow on rainy days,
imagined angels sprinkling freckles on his skin.
He believed in the magic of Jack's beans,
he saw the purity in flowers,
he listened to seashells,
he cherished his mother's smell
and saw his father fly.
But she, now all grown up, knew that hope fades,
rainbows are not real,
freckles are moles,
Jack is just a fairytale,
flowers die,
seashells do not speak,
her mother's smell faded
and her father's wings broke.
There is no place for hope in a world. where love is rarely seen.
Maybe when the sun wakes up,
Hope will too.