...I'm not written in Braille,
You don't have to physically touch me,
To get to know me
In fact, I'd prefer if we kept our hands to ourselves
...and just spoke with our eyes and touched with our words...
Can you handle that?

I want your broken...
I want your insanity...
I'm not afraid of your baggage...
Ill help you unpack it...

I’ll stay in this coffee shop and write about you everyday if I have to

You’re that beautiful

You are so beautiful,
yet so unaware of it

I want to paint a picture of your beauty and place it onto the other side of your eyelids, so that every single time you blinked...

You’d see what I see, in you...

I craved cigarettes today
I hate the smell
and the smoke in my throat
I remember being a child,
watching aunts & uncles
smoke their lungs away
as went to fetch the ashtray
they demanded me to go get
the calm
that submerged from their faces after one drag
is what I remember the most
I wonder if they imagined
being the ashes
that carelessly blew into the wind and became one with the smoke
as they inhaled the poison that controlled their happiness
those small pieces of burned tobacco ashes
were free to go
free to roam
wherever their light flight took them
before they evaporated into thin air...

I craved cigarettes today
the last time I craved cigarettes
a woman broke my heart
I remember vividly
that short but very silent ride to the gas station
with her
she watched as I purchased my pack of cigarettes
in distress
she was in shock or sadness with my purchase
I couldn't really make out which
as her condescending lips...
said " Don't die"
as I so desperately wanted to tell her how I had died along time ago from her malicious care
but of course,
my....
passive aggression would not allow me to actually speak those words to the primary cause of my self-inflicting pain
more parts of me died that night
and it wasn't from tobacco
Needless to say
I only smoked two cigarettes that day
after throwing the pack away...
but today.
I craved cigarettes
as a source to extinguish my pain
as if the detrimental inhale would save my soul
it wasn't cigarettes that I craved
it was always the escape
from pain
I craved.

Today I took forever letting go  
of my bed,
sentiments of your skin
still lingers
so warm and slow
our sheets miss you.
too


-andreasiera