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Oct 2018
seated at the backseat
with our song on repeat
she reached for a stick
inside the back pocket
of her faded denim jeans
i heard a familiar flick sound
only to see a lighter on her hand
silence fell upon us
not knowing what to say
i glanced around
trying to find an excuse
not to continue to blatantly stare at her
still, she is all i see
through my peripheral vision
savoring the smoke
letting it all fill her lungs
puffing,
inhaling
yes, a stick could ****
sooner or later
if no one dares to stop her
but what if she's already dying inside?
or what if she's just doing this
to fight the demon
who made its way inside her soul?
chained her heart
no plan of letting it go
i may have seen her burned her throat countless times already
yet, it still feels like the first time
her thin lips pressed against the filter
how i wish it was my lips, instead
Lauren Pascual
Written by
Lauren Pascual  17/F/elsewhere
(17/F/elsewhere)   
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