the smell of the smoke replaces your unfading scent on my clothes,
removing you slowly with ever puff.

the burning in the back of my throat from the uninterrupted smoking of the cigarettes that never leave my fingertips;
it's just like the burning I had after crying over you,
screaming for you to come back down a never ending hallway.

it's the way I poison my lungs,
my body,
just to try and get rid of you.

but even you know,
that will never happen.