i let you dangle between my index and middle fingers;
       like how a painter would hold a paintbrush loaded with paint when he was idly thinking of finishing details to accentuate the beauty of his visual symphony

       i **** a breath with you between my lips;
       like how we used those special swirly straws to sip milkshakes and lemonade on hot summer days

       i take a deep breathe and exhale;
       like how i'd exude an exasperated sigh whenever you would drive me crazy on nights we would bicker over the most trivial of things, on nights you wouldnt let me finish my two thousand-word essay just so you could "hear my voice". it's sweet, yeah, but for the love of god, give me a break

lather, rinse, and repeat.

you were more like a cigarette than i though

you were with me when i painted the portrait of my childhood on the canvas of the first 10 years of my life. you walked with me on the sidewalks of playful banter that borders the avenue of worthless spats.

you singe holes in my chest
white, burning ashes scattering all across my entire being, contaminating every nook and corner it could find. tainting it with a thick cloud of hazy lies.
you fill my head with a fog of gullibility-inducing smoke, using the images of each and every memorabilia shared between two childhood chums.
you churn my stomach with the putrid odor of nicotine and tobacco, but i stick with you anyway.
you burned my skin with every puff of smoke, tainting my skin with goodbyes

you made me happy, scratch that;
you made me elated, ecstatic, euphoric
every other positive e-word
however,
someday
you would be
**the death of me