The artificial flavor of
his nicotine fix
filled the room
that we once fell
in love in -
or so he said,
but he was always
the idealist
between us

We found ourselves
in a maze
from all the
walls built,
doors slammed,
growing distance
obstructing the
views of our
tunnel vision

And I found myself
alone;
but seventeen
isn't a lifetime,
so you pack
your belongings in
a cardboard box
and label it
Fragile

Until I came back
to this room -
not out of love,
but sheer boredom -
and the contents
of my box
spilled out
as he whispered
through the vapor

"You were always in the spotlight for me."