she stabbed a cig in her lips just to sip the smoke
as i tripped off the second hand secrecy she spoke
i was choked up. i couldn’t cough out a comeback
for comfort as she drew a new one from the pack.
those ivory black irises lacked pigment.
they looked as bleak as the stars in the distance
or was it just a figment of my inhibitions?
or some innocent incident that kicked in my skepticism?
in an instant my instincts clicked in again,
it was getting late so we made our way down the bend
and in the end, my intent was never met
but she did teach me something that I’ll never forget.
she said "a habit is a habit, somehow we gotta have it.
i know it may be tragic but somehow we gotta have it.
a habit is a habit, somehow we gotta have it
and someday we’ll drag it down to our caskets".
she tried to play a queen in a king’s reign
but you can’t share the wealth if you’re the one who pays.
we’re drawn by the waste, we’re taunted by the taste
but maybe someday you’ll get your life straight
and so we laid waste beneath the marble moon
as the tar tore off her taste buds as the ashes bloomed.
as her charcoal perfume loomed in the moonlight
as my hands laid on her waist, waiting for a goodnight kiss.
but with a bit of luck, i could’ve caught
a little more than smoke in my tear ducts.
aw shucks, i should’ve known a lot better.
she may have had a halo but her wings were severed
and never will i ever make the same mistake twice.
if you break my heart once, i’ll be gone by daylight.
i promise that you’ll wake up all alone tomorrow
and i know for sure you’ll light another Marlboro.
smothered by my sorrows, i know how it’s tragic
but a habit is a habit, somehow we gotta have it.
a habit is a habit, somehow we gotta have it
and someday we’ll drag it down to our caskets.
© Matthew Harlovic
I'm not your every-day, run of the mill rapper. I'm a story teller.
In essence, I think rap is rhythm AND poetry.
If you want to hear my poem to music, copy and paste this link:
https://soundcloud.com/outtatune-1/julys-******
