You said our love wouldn't die,
Ring's on, but the lipstick doesn't lie.
"Who were you with last night?"

You rub the love smear off,
You look at me and scoff,
"Don't you have faith in me?"

I say my thoughts to you,
"Faith dies when you aren't true"
"Now my faith in you expired."

You beg. You plead. You fall
On your knees because you know.
That I now... let you go.

So you're asking me what I wrote poems about?

About questions asked, but never answered
about remembering, or being someone new
about love, about treasure
about life, about you

First cigarette of the day:
In goes the toxic particles,
Everything from ammonia to yeast all rolled up in a white and tan piece of paper.
Out goes the smoke, along with every negative feeling your body has ever been laced with.
You'd blow it all out,
hoping the smoke would take your problems away
and let everything disintegrate into the wind
as if you'd never see any trace of your issues again.
But if that were true, you wouldn't need another one.
Don't you dare touch another one.

Second cigarette of the day:
The smoke and feelings that you exhaled earlier in the morning,
Is now a ghost that's haunting you,
Slowly taking over your body until you're withering away into dust.
It's now a trail that follows you around and makes you stand out,
There is no escaping it.
Your problems are still relevant and floating in the air,
And you wonder why you can't **** them.
You inhale the ghosts that were once just mere feelings,
And you exhale an active tornado.

Third cigarette of the day:
Your ghosts have become demons that have broken through your protective rib cage into your lungs,
Which are now barren and wilted from setting them on fire,
Over and over again.
They tear past your heart and soul to make you cough up your anger and regret,
Just to have you swallow it again.
Your clothes reek,
Your teeth are yellowing,
And it's all because you wanted to breathe out your mere issues,
That just turned into haunting memories.

What is the hardest part
                    Of being alone?
It's the quietness,
A stillness making
What ought have been a home-
a house.
It's filled with beds,
But those lover's nests
Are             Empty.
And the thought is
As occupying as a dream.
A dream you cannot feel
Because the loneliness is keeping you awake

With no one to hold down your fears
         And keep you safe.

Another cigarette gone.
Right down to the filter.
My pain now is strong,
Are you wanting to **** her?

That girl you love,
And said you'd never abandon.
That's what this is.
That's what you've done.
I'm alone.
I'm abandoned.
You've lost my trust
and killed my love.

A carton down,
Am I trying to die?
I'm going to have a smokers cough.
For the rest of my life.
I'm nauseous,
I hate,
I'm abandoned.
And you're to blame.

I miss you
I love you
I want to know you're here.
But you're gone
You've left
And I'm stuck drowning in my tears.