i started smoking
because it is the
closest thing i
have to you.
how you used
to always carry
cigarettes with you.
the smell of smoke
followed you
(traced you, held you,
touched you, loved you,
loved you, loved)
wherever you went.
i grew to like it
even though
i consciously knew
that it was wilting
away at you.
the consistency
pleased me
(i was never
one to like change)
and when you left
you took the
smoke with you
and it was the
first time
i was truly burnt.
i told myself
that i would do
anything
to have that smell back
to be reminded
of all the good
memories
instead of the bad ones.
so i started to smoke
and now i can’t stop.
once again
you have plagued me.
Jan 15, 2018
Jan 15, 2018 at 11:52 PM UTC
i started smoking
because it is the
closest thing i
have to you.
how you used
to always carry
cigarettes with you.
the smell of smoke
followed you
(traced you, held you,
touched you, loved you,
loved you, loved)
wherever you went.
i grew to like it
even though
i consciously knew
that it was wilting
away at you.
the consistency
pleased me
(i was never
one to like change)
and when you left
you took the
smoke with you
and it was the
first time
i was truly burnt.
i told myself
that i would do
anything
to have that smell back
to be reminded
of all the good
memories
instead of the bad ones.
so i started to smoke
and now i can’t stop.
once again
you have plagued me.
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