I am a box of Red Marlboro cigarettes,
the kind that costs $7 at those towns were? where? the hope has been long gone,
You can find my leftovers at playgrounds along with sad teeangers whose hands cannot hold all the broken dreams rotting in their hearts,
Not the nicotine free kind with no chemicals,
I'm the kind that burns your insides,
the kind that destroys you from your soul outward,
the kind that you chain smoke on your balcony with the lover your mother can't stand,
I am 2 a.m.s in between your index and *******,
inhale, exhale
I can introduce you to hell when your lips meet mine,
I make your girlfriend taste of cigarette butts and addiction,
and her lips on mine remind you of depression and the midnight demons,
but you love her just as much as she loves me and you won't ever leave,
I am the stench on your father's shirt that disguises the other women's perfume,
I create elaborate bruises that run up your veins, hitting it's walls as I go,
They were right,
your teachers were right,
your parents were right,
that religious aunt you only saw at family reunions every once in a blue moon was right,
I am no good, I am death,
but I remind you that you are alive