I was doing good
my lungs were healthy
my smile was brighter
it didn't matter if they liked me
but I still kept my lighter
it went well
when i was offered a pack
I smiled and said not right now
they said they wanted the old me back
I’ve been stuck in the past
all this time
3 months later here we are again
it’s just that my problems seem to disappear
along with my sadness
when the only thing between my fingers
is a burnt filter
can you call this a relapse
when i missed the feeling of my bones melting so bad
it was like coming home again
the smoke burned my eyes
and i can no longer tell if my tears
are from the cigarettes or from
my own ******* emotions

I want to say I was just bored
I could’ve gone longer if I tried
but now i doubt myself
when I’m up at midnight
wishing i could leave and start a new life
with only a cigarette pack and a *** of cash
I tried so hard to be what I should’ve been
now I’m stuck feeling guilty
over things that make me happy
I’m sorry I can’t fit to your standards
I’m sorry I can’t be like my mother
I’m sorry you don’t like me when I’m high
I’m sorry I never learn from my mistakes
I’m sorry I can’t feel like myself without
dying a bit inside
In front of me stand two paved roads
but I've discovered I already took the wrong path
down to my fateful demise