My thoughts compensate for the lack of noise.
Here is to cough syrup and all things alike.

If you want to know the truth, the first dose was to stop the wheezing in my lungs,
and the second was to put an end to the sinking in my gut.

I miss watching your fingers dance across the keys of your keyboard and I miss the same fingers that would lift my shirt and dig into my back.

Yours is the only secondhand smoke I would gladly inhale until the cancer crept up and took us both.

I would be honored to drown in a sea of you and your demons.