Match off
Burn the cigarettes
Read my eyes, tell me my regrets
****, I got depression
I got ******* passions
My mother was asking,
I'm a burning mess
I'm a disaster
Don't you dare lay a hand on her unless you ask her
I hate all these cowards
These addicts
This magic
I hate all the pillagers
Who destroy my villagers
I hate the rapists, and abusers and catcallers
Cause when I get my hands on you
You're gonna be running and falling
Off of the edge of your world
Don't think you'll get away with it
You ******* idiot.
AHEM
Sorry, I got carried away there,
Hey Mr. Internet,
Thank you,
You saved my life in February, yea
Thank you,
Because of the internet
I got an audience,
To hear the stupid **** I wrote down
In class on a sticky note with my red pen
Thank you,
Because of the internet
I got a bunch a friends
But because of the internet
I got a bunch of mood swings
And I'm losing grasp of things
**** the internet
I love the internet
I love this girl
I'm talking to, through
A screen
But is that real love?
Because we only know each other's words and not our voice
But is that really a choice,
Man, I'm ****** up.
It's ****** up because like
You get so lost in someone
That the only way to get out
Is to just,
Delete them
Because you can't really delete people from real life
But you can
And it's ******* horrible

It’s the thought of your cigarette smoke.
Which cracks through the gaps in your teeth,
and into the hollows of your lips -
becoming so coarse because they are soft.

Clouds of your grey
pollute my eyes.
And you hide behind it until
it has threaded through my every pore
and into my tongue as I swallow into my gut.
I savour as if it was you that I inhaled.

I drown in that somber ocean
of your lighter in the side pocket of your trench,
and the packet which you dig from out your jeans.

As you breath
smoke flows into my ear - pollutes them
With late nights you spend alone.
A half dry pen on tea stained paperd notebooks
that are buried under paperclips and mangled headphones.
The sound as you force, pelting creased paper into the fire.
and tears which drip out onto your sweater.
and echoes of dying guitar strings
that can no longer bare the abuse you show them these nights
when the words and notes won’t kiss.like you want them to.

As it drips down through my gut
I taste the rasp smell of your cologne in the morning
after the rain wastes it off in the morning.
Along with the taste of salt that you drench every word in.

The smoke evaporates from my view.
I stare at your bones glowing under an orange street light..
Your eyes hollow,
eaten up by the shadows and I wonder
if you are in front of me.

Or if I only recognised the familiar grey clouds
- that once hid my blue sky.

your eyes blank with the dimming grey
of the cigarette that you dreamt you held now.
even if it blacks and barricades
your last air - in your last lungs.
Because it’s saving you from your
void into reality.

now the smell of pain’s smoke,
gnaws into the walls of the room you lurk in
from the insides.

spreading to suffocate the ones who
bullet this hatred into your restless head,
under your river of limp hair.

and finally it blanks your glass window so all you see
is your black hole of distort.

Just another drag of cigarette
Just one more swig of your favorite scotch
Just a little more bagginess under your eyes
And some more chaps on your lips
Just a few more scars on your soul
And a bit more pain in your heart
Just another sleepless night
Away from the felicity of world
Is all it’ll take to turn you
From an ordinary work of art to a ‘masterpiece’

As I put the cigarette between these lips of mine
Just one match and it came alive
The first puff burnt all my worries down
With the second one I got rid of my frown
The third drag made me feel your arms around me
With the fourth one I started feeling free
The fifth puff was warm against the cold air
The sixth one made my vision clear
With the seventh, I could see my spirit dancing in smoke
The last one left me wanting for more