I wanted my life to be a poem. That's what all of this is. I date you Because you fit into poetry The way dark things do. And you make me happy But the truth is I'd love you if you were only A sad poem.
Cigarettes capture My attention Because they're poetic. Poets smoke. A cigarette fits in poems Like writers pen in palm.
I listen to music For the lyrics Which speak to me In the way I like To speak. For the drums That now only mean you. For the guitar In the closet I take out On occasion. For the rhythm That makes my pen dance When it would rather sleep.
I have the poem in my head And I guess I'm writing it. But you're writing it too. So is she. And him. Mostly me. But the cigarettes Write too. Disappearing through Your lips-- Ash appearing on the page.