As I light this cigarette in my mouth,

I inhale the smoke,

like it’s the thing that keeps me alive.

I've gotten worse;

Since you’ve left me standing in the rain.

My scars were reopened.

My lungs were seared with smoke again.

My pillows were blackened from,

the mascara that ran down my face.

he’s just a boy they say.

No,

you don’t ******* understand.

He was the air I breathed.

He was words that I conveyed into poems.

You’ll be okay;

No;

He was the brown eyed boy,

of my dreams.