She lit the flame at the end of his lipstick stained cigarette, smoking it was like kissing her all over again. The smoke burnt his eyes and scratched his throat, attempting to breathe the oxygen just wasn’t there. She suffocated him.
Their love like a cigarette, set alight and raised to rebellious lips. Their romantic tragedy like smoking in the rain, It was painfully beautiful yet short lived. She became his addiction, little by little she consumed him. If only he could quit her. His lungs would not ache when he’s alone.
Unlike his cigarettes, she didn’t come with a warning label on the cover. She did more damage to him than the cigarettes ever could.
So, he left her and returned to his lipstick stained cigarettes. She left a hole in him no amount of nicotine could ever fill. Now he lights cigarettes just to watch them burn.