Dear Cigarrette in My Hand,
I love the way you make me feel. All the anxiety the world creates and you, my dear friend, are the only one that makes things better. You are the one I crave, the one I love. My loved ones say you are no good for me, but I laugh them off. They could never understand how I feel when I inhale your sweet poison. The euphoric feeling makes me feel almost sane. Slowly, I know you are killing me, but how can I face the world each day without your kiss? How can I calm myself and clear my head without your great influence? Tell me, my love, why must you **** me when I have shown you nothing but love?
To be honest, the answers to these questions mean nothing to me. There is no way that I could give you up. There is no way I could live without you. I would rather die by your loving embrace than the cold pressure of the world beyond us. I love you, my sweet cigarrette. I love you!
From the One Who Truly Loves You,
Feb 17, 2015
Feb 17, 2015 at 6:47 PM UTC
Dear Cigarrette in My Hand,
I love the way you make me feel. All the anxiety the world creates and you, my dear friend, are the only one that makes things better. You are the one I crave, the one I love. My loved ones say you are no good for me, but I laugh them off. They could never understand how I feel when I inhale your sweet poison. The euphoric feeling makes me feel almost sane. Slowly, I know you are killing me, but how can I face the world each day without your kiss? How can I calm myself and clear my head without your great influence? Tell me, my love, why must you **** me when I have shown you nothing but love?
To be honest, the answers to these questions mean nothing to me. There is no way that I could give you up. There is no way I could live without you. I would rather die by your loving embrace than the cold pressure of the world beyond us. I love you, my sweet cigarrette. I love you!
From the One Who Truly Loves You,
I don't smoke. I wrote this for my friend who does.