On this porch I feel like reminiscing.
With an old friend about all the times we've shared.
It's a bitter winter night and the clouds on my breath hold a scent so familiar.
All those empty promises, the shared cigarettes that burnt the cement between you and I.
Kisses with nicotine breaths, burning cigarettes between our lips as we played cards.
War would be played for hours on end. Till we realized that there was no cigarette to calm these waves of emotions that overflow within us.
Last year on a night like this we were bundle in a blanket talking about where we'd be a year from then.
Apparently neither of us were close to the truth.
Our last cigarette is still crumbled in the Altoids Ash tray.
I'm here on this porch with an old friend, and you're not here to share this moment with me.
A bottle of ***** and some cigarettes are here to help me forget.
That this old friend is my worse enemy, but I can't seem to shake the feeling that maybe till death do us part is all a lie.
Because in this moment it has never seemed that you and I aren't so far apart if death could only come and take me as well.