You are my last cigarette.
The flimsy promise
I shakily whisper,
Whilst balancing you between my lips.
I try not to anxiously stare
As I strike the match, and
Ignite the fiery passion
That was once our love.
Forever committing,
To the hazy mirage,
That this will be the last time we meet.

You are my cancer.
The burning tar that
Slithers down my throat,
Nests in my lungs, and
Corrodes everything you touch.
Nothing more than
A relentless distraction,
You take my breath away, and
Replace it with ashes;
Invading my every thought with ease.
Oh, how I long to gently
Wrap you in my fingers, and
Press you cautiously against my lips.
I realize now, that our love
Is far from healthy.
Somehow,
You've become my disease.

You are my craving.
The subtle aroma that lingers
Around every corner.
Your taste; your warmth; your smell;
Biting my nails and tapping my fingers.
You are no where to be found,
And yet, I can't escape you.
They tell us we don't belong together;
In the end, I know it's for the best.
It might be hard now,
But eventually -- I hope.
I'll forget all about you.

You are my mistake.
The temptation outside the bar
In which every shot of tequila
Makes slightly more attractive.
Toxic desires hurl me at your doorstep,
Only vindicating my inability
To resist your familiar touch.
My thoughts race recklessly
Along a jagged terrain of
Joyful satisfaction, and
Regret-filled tears.
No longer in control,
I am at your mercy.

You are my last cigarette.
The déjà vu mocking
My consciousness, and
Nightmare haunting my slumber.
When I awake the next morning,
Cradled in your arms, silently staring
Into your arrogant, crooked grin.
I'll replay the words in my head
That I've come to know so well.
"You are my last cigarette."
And then I'll kiss you,
One last time.