it's terribly humid
and this cigarette
is terribly harmful
this life is horrid
it's terribly horrid.

and i terribly die
each time
you kiss my forrid.


-- Eleanor

The sky faded from cyan to ash and we had to go before it turned purple.
“It’s dangerous!” – the park managers started yelling.
I mean, it was. We surely could have gotten struck by lightning and died fried and burnt like a chicken in oil.  It was not our day tho: not to die at least.
If I died in any other way, it was when we sat under the ceiling by the green benches and watched the rain pour. Just that. It would rain harder and harder and my head on my friend’s shoulder would get heavier and heavier. I think we spent around 15 minutes like that: quiet, in our bubble. Then I started crying. I don’t know who poured heavier and who looked the bluest, the sky or me. Completely embarrassed, my brown eyes turning into puddles avoided the eyes of my company, but it was almost impossible. She turned my head around with one hand on both of my cheeks and looked at me. We spent a good 5 minutes just staring at each other, and my tears would not stop flowing. The rain wasn’t stopping. The cold was rising.

I didn’t know what to do. Her eyes were so green and so dull yet so hypnotizing. Everything about them made me wonder when I would get to know her as much as I wanted to. Did I want to know her? Just a friend electrocuting me with the touch of her hands. She was not doing anything, I wanted everything. Just like that I wrapped my arms around her neck and kissed her left cheek. Once. I kissed her forehead. Twice. I kissed her right cheek. Once. I kissed the tip of her nose. Once, then twice; I just looked at her afterwards, feeling her gaze intensify along with the rain, the cold crawling into my bones and bringing back the physical pain of a twisted ankle and wrist. I let go. My eyes turned into mud but not for too long. She pulled me closer by my burgundy sweater and got closer to my face slowly: too slow. I was too impatient, but I let her take her time. I met her lips for the first time and they were as warm as the cigarettes she smokes before class and as sweet as her strawberry lip balm. I don’t know for how long we stayed like that, but it was just like time had stopped for us, like the rain maintained its intensity, like thunders hit the same place twice, like the sky lit up lilac at the same tempo. It was too cold.

one more cigarette
dosen’t matter if i die
though i’m still feeling sad
when i’m f'cking high
and there’s no motivation
in our f'cked up minds
we wanna live
not just survive

could you tell me why the average man
  is more willing to give a cigarette
  to a beggar on the street,

over the dollar in his pocket or the shoes on his feet,
  when he has two more pairs at home
  and his bank account is comfy?

I remember the last note I wrote,
where he poured venom in ink
scribbled words placed blankly
at the tip of Saturday’s tongue
A mouthful of madness intertwined
between two diverging lives
as returning innocence sparked
cigarette, after cigarette

The warm taste of whiskey
fills a stomach freer than before
The smell lingers at each exhale to fuel the fire  
of a breath’s subtle aching for forgiveness
Conversation now lacks substance
Words slur actions to violently attack
without awareness to rule direction
I felt who hurt you, looking back on it

Heavy eyes spoke language to
disease the mourning of our losses
with something to be permanent,
but not entirely forgotten

Your heart bleeds an intensity
of the darkest hour you could find
Separation furthers an inevitable exit
we both cannot control alone

He falls to his knees uneasy
The fall is an alarming salute,
a goodbye that cannot be understood,
a commitment I failed to believe

Across the room, I watch you
I try and tend to the plans you’ve made,
but I am weaker than you had been

The damage pierces my ribcage
It catches me off guard as it moves through
Starvation vows to carry in its place
to feed the body empty noise
I hear silence engage lost attention
An aftermath of memories led astray
to make believe the truth

I wore the flaws love wounded on skin
The scars gave weight to my appearance
to comfort a lack of confidence

Distance understood what was yesterday,
would not be tomorrow

Existing only to heal the unknown
We should of watched time,
return us to what we knew

I have come for silence,
A soft breath interrupts, but it's only a memory,
A memory of a voice, A memory of touch,
I flick the ash before the flesh is burnt,
These burns could be healed by that touch,
soft like this wind, soft like this silence,
Soon there will only be ash,
Don't worry you can light another,
But the longing burns on,
The tears roll down,
The cigarette is out,
The love goes on.

Anxiety
The sound of lighting a cigarette
Inhale, a feeling of relief
Exhale, the thoughts of you.