At least nowadays my lungs are filled with viscid tar,
rather than the lingering scent of her ******* perfume that lingered around me on the night I realized I was in love with her.

At least my brain can focus on the filter in my mouth
instead of her rose color lipstick than ran along my lips, on the night she revealed she loved me too.

I craved her.
Every inch, every flaw.
Everything that created her sent me in a haze, Intoxicated me.

Though that's past tense..
and the mind has quite a problem craving.
Craving, Lusting... at things that shall never be reclaimed

Present tense?
Cravings..
Cravings consume me.

They run throughout my veins as if blood,
Hot with passion, burning with lust.
leaving my heart singed.

As hot as the coals on my cigarette,
as I flick them into the wind,
her words echoing throughout my skull "I don't know.."

"I don't know. if..."
that was my last message from her until last week.
uncertainy was gone.. Though I was greeted with "I know"

"I know..."
It's amazing how a phrase can instantly shatter all joy.
"I know, I've never loved you."

I've smoked three packs since the beginning of this week.
At least my brain is craving nicotine,
rather than her.

People love in different ways..
Love is to the vast languages.
And mine was foreign to you.