You used to crave me like the drag of your last cigarette and with the passion of the sharp razor drawing blood from your hips and thighs.
I'm a smart girl but I'm not that wise.
You need something good for you and I'm not good enough.
You want something bad for you and I'm not bad enough.
I'm still the faint tobacco smell that still gives you headaches.
I'm the dull fishing hook in your top drawer that just won't suffice.
I never wanted to be your addiction, I wanted to be your salvation.
Neither worked out very nice.