i like to reminisce on fires that never truly took place
yet i still smell the scent of smoke on my clothes
maybe it was from the things my mother burned outside
or from my father's cigarettes
and it had clung to me
i felt its claws dig through the weavings
and through the layers of my skin
but i did not notice it
until i had realised every word i spoke
turned black before my eyes.

A half burnt smoke never tastes the same
As an un-lit cigarette.
It’s the same with love.

We can never tumble back in time to;
Happy nights nuzzling in bed,
Clandestine kisses on the dock at midnight,
Drinking in glorious sunsets and city lights.
As if we could ever pretend that the world was perfect.

We can never dance back into;
Long car rides to Victoria,
Drunk laughs in the rain,
Late night cuddles on the couch
Playing video games to our hearts content.

In all honesty, I don’t need to live in the past
I like smoking full cigarettes to make them last.

My fingers used to
always smell of her,
her scent would linger
on my clothes for days

Now that she has left,
my fingers reek of cigarettes,
and my clothes remain unwashed

All I want is for my skin to
absorb her scent once again

But this is not a poem,
and she has changed her perfume

the putrid smell of cigarette smoke and cheap whiskey breath feels like home.
           His arms felt like home, too.
      I knew him as the boy who’d party all night and make plans with me the next day only to sleep the whole time.
              I knew him as ****** noses from ******* and the young emphysemic cough that would **** a small part of me every time I heard it.
     I knew him as that big, stupid ******* smile.
I knew him as the boy who’d ride his bike to my house but would always be too worn out to ride his bike with me.
          I knew him as far too charming for his own good.
I knew him as perfectly imperfect.
       I know him as cold and unempathetic.
I know him as the boy who refused to get on the phone with me for closure.
     I know him as unstable.
I know him as manipulative.
      I know myself as someone who will never be more important than *******.
I know myself as someone who will never be more important than cigarettes.
     I know myself as just another doll who was tossed to the side by a child who got bored.
     The fetor of a coffin nail and the acidic aroma of Highlands Red still reminds me of him—
                 but only the version of him that I knew.

The ways your eyes crinkle when you smile
The freckles on your face are wild

You burn a cigarette between your lips
Forgetting about our very last kiss

I try to find you at the convention
While you brag about your new invention

I’m sorry about laughing at your past joke
Cause when you hit me I felt like a ghost

Every time you brushed your lips against mine
I relished on your ciroc divine

I need you how the plants need the sun
Just touch me so we can finally have some fun

Don’t pull out your gun
Don’t hit the brakes

Now you’ve undone
what could’ve been saved

The bar.
New personas,
Rare from near to afar.
Tangling in the smoldering lights,
With haste.

Why does morning coffee tastes like our bitter yesterdays?
   I added sugar to bring the sweetness back
      while all you do is sugarcoat everything.
            Cigarettes matches  our coffee more than pastry
               maybe we are only destined to be a habit
                     than being a necessity.