everything is temporary,

nothing is permanent and i don’t know if thats comforting

or completely terrifying.

*part of me just really wants you to be able to stay.

I should probably start smoking cigarettes again to help keep you off my mind

instead of laying in bed thinking about you all day-

id have to pull myself up to take care of a more demanding addiction

sitting amongst the flowers developing cancer sounds a lot more peaceful than being in the dark with an ache for you

with every exhale id expel small fragments of you until there would only be the reminder of your forgotten jacket on the back of my door

i wouldn’t give second thought to my textless phone or the fact that this is now week 3 of not having our sunday movie night

people say cigarettes aren’t worth the damage, but you’re not worth the pain, either

I’d rather choke on smoke and yellow my teeth than breathe your name again

because blackening my lungs sounds a lot more preferable than waiting around for you to never come