I often wish I was the cigarette you used
on cold nights to calm you down
and forget the pain you had.
Lies sometimes come in nicotine laced toxic.
I wonder if you see how every lie you tell
is you committing suicide
right in front of me;
killing everything I see in you.
Craving the voice that suffocates me,
these nicotine laced lies.
You being addicted to drugs,
and I to you.
Addicted to the taste your words leave in my mouth.
There is supposed to be a difference between love and nicotine.
I often wish I was that cigarette.
Only then would you be letting me in.
So breathe me.