Feeling so tired but i can't sleep
isnt that a ******* cliche?
suffocating feelings that would make me weep
but holding onto every word you say

Your hand print on my hipbone
a bite mark on your neck
tonight we wont feel alone
and we sure as hell wont forget

But for the nights your lover is a cigarette
and the kiss of death is one you love
it's not her you want, i'll take that bet
it's not her you're thinking of

These nights my lover is a cigarette
My heart goes out to the burning sensation
of smoke in my throat
and tar in my lungs
and cancer in my soul.

These nights my lover is a cigarette
I sit up for hours kissing my death
and when my lips with hers
that small part of me dies
and i pull away,
exhale,
and feel better

Now I'm sitting in front of this screen
pounding away at the keys
in some mismatched order trying to form words
words about my day
words that try to communicate
words that explain the things that i see or do
here is where i try to make sense

Now I'm slumped at my desk
scribbling away on a pad of paper
in an endless stream trying to lay bare my thoughts
thoughts about my friends
thoughts about cigarettes and coffee and pretty girls i try to talk to
words that show the things i think
here is where i try to feel

I can still hear it sometimes
the sharp trill of your laugh
at something I've done or said
the giggle behind your voice
as you mock me for it.

I can still see it sometimes
the lines that form so quickly
when you smile
the light in your eyes
when I've done something sweet for you

I can still taste it sometimes
the gentle musk of your lips
barely parted against mine
the muffled breath
as you whisper tenderness

I can still feel it sometimes
the pounding of your hear
when you held me close afraid i would slip away
But i did not slip then i went
rather i was shoved
Not by pulled by some new face
not fallen out of interest
but shoved, by none other than you.

And sometimes i can feel that too.