I am a dubious believer,
And an un-abiding listener.
I do not heed your warnings well.

I thrive off the thrill of second hand smoke,
Bringing the tendrils down to my lungs.
I coax them in.
I haven't decided if i like the taste,
But I know I like the feel.

I've never had a nose bleed.
And nor do I intend to.

Will you run away again,
Or can you bear to stay here with me
A while longer until I repel you?

There is a trill of promise,
Wavering on the wind.
****** it up before it finds somebody else.