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She pressed her lips against her dying ciagratte bud like a painter would with his paintbrush.
It was almost poetic,
The way her beautiful mouth caressed something so poisonous to her soul.
She had the eyes of a wild lion,
A deep brown that looked like melted chocolate on an immense summer day.
She fluttered her eyelashes like a gentle butterfly taking off into the breeze, her light conplexion made the rays from the sun look so warm and inviting.
Her wild soul danced in her lion eyes as her calm expression and relaxed body sank into the empty air around her, swirling with that grey cigarette smoke.
Curling hair.
Gentle waves.
The calm before the storm.
The roaring storm took on a life of its own in her wild eyes.
c 1d
Words are made of water
And memories of smoke
One will fade away with time
And one will make you choke.
i think i may be choking on my words right now
seated at the backseat
with our song on repeat
she reached for a stick
inside her back pocket
i heard a familiar flick sound
only to see a lighter on her hand
silence fell upon us
not knowing what to say
i glanced around
trying to find an excuse
not to continue blatantly stare at her
still, she is all i see
through my peripheral vision
savoring the smoke
letting it all fill her lungs
yes, a stick could ****
sooner or later
if no one dares to stop her
but what if she's already dying inside?
or what if she's just doing this
to fight the demon
who made its way inside her soul?
i may have seen her burn her throat countless times already
yet, it still feels like the first time
her thin lips pressed the filter
how i wish it was my lips, instead
sofia l 15h
the curls of smoke remind me
of the way
your fingers used to
wrap around my thighs
Burning heart
Matching soul
What will it take
To feel a bit whole

Spinning head
Cloud of smoke
Just one bad habit
To fix what's broke

My throat still aches
I just wanted to feel awake...
I turn to comfort in the smoke I exhale.
Try not to panic when I'm feeling this way.
I see the light but you're well out of reach.
I try to surface but the waters too deep.
Simply H Oct 11
Green bud, so fluffy and light
The taste you give is udder delight
Your smoke so thick and smoky too
Oh how I laugh when I **** you
Soft crystal so sparkling white
My eyes go red with blurry sight
I roll you fast, I roll you tight
I smoke until I loose my might

My friends come over and pack a bowl
I smoke and laugh and blow an O
We roll a blunt and spark it fast
Oh what a sight to watch it glow
The smoke in waves so thick and vast
I take a hit and go to pass
But it goes out and turns to ash

I'd love to say i have all I need
But *** knows I love my ****
I love the feeling I get from a joint
**** is great, that's my point
I smoke **** everyday
I couldn’t imagine it any other way
I'll probably smoke grass until I die
Only to smoke with the man in the sky

As you can tell I love my herb
Ask me I'll tell you its truely superb
But I'm not one to smoke from a pipe
Personally I was never the type
It reminded me too much of *****
And everyone knows that's just wack
Plus I wouldn't really feel like a snack
And there's nothing better than munchies when your ******
Of course everything else will get postponed

Well it's time for this to finally end
Im gonna go roll and spark my blend
Writing about **** for this long
Makes me wanna hit my ****
So if you smoke let me know
I'm happy to share if your low
In the crease of her fingers
Is where she held me.
A history of thought,
Flaked off at the end.
It was her fingers I felt most comfortable.
That I could truly do anything.
Stuck between her middle and pointer finger.
Held high, upright.
Unprecedented in eclipse.
She'd press me to her lips.
Flaked at the tip.
Scatter ash
Where I felt most alive.
Nestled in the bend of her fingers.
My building without escape.
She'd set fire to my head.
& like a mad man I'd lay still.
This smoke, a place I wanted to be.
Our bad habit persisting
Day in and day out.
The only fact perhaps we truly have.
I'd unravel in loss of responsibility,
The nook of her fingers,
A universal sense of comfort.
Withered down.
Tossed to the wind.
Our history made short,
Recognizing that we were doomed from the start.
Smoking in front of the no smoking sign,
A habit we can't put down
yellow soul Oct 7
When I think of you I think of  
The greenest eyes and the purest freckles
I taste cigarettes on the tip of my tongue
And a soft touch on my bubbly lips
I feel your gentle yet steady grip on my waist
I hear you deep and calming voice
And then it feels like I can’t breathe
All the memories came into my head to fast
My heart starts to hurt
And I open my eyes
***, ***… ***, ***… ***, ***…
The only sound in my dark room is my heart
***, ***… ***, ***… ***, ***…
I see how your tearful eyes have lost their sparkle
I hear you ask me why…
why I keep hurting you
why I’m so messed up
Remembering the smell of the smoke you blew in my face
A new smell
A new smoke
A new boy
With the same green eyes
Admitting to all his lies
Left me here wondering why
this is about my ups and downs with this boy who keep breaking my heart but who I can't leave.
sky Oct 5
I have no more cash
So no
I will not buy that
I won’t pay the electricity
Let it run out
I won’t pay the water bill
Let the tap run dry
I don’t need any of that
So go ahead, take the doormat.
I have no regrets
Only cigarettes.
I’ll pay the rent
But that’s all
You only need a house and some smoke
Who cares if I’ll be broke
No one
No one cares.
So I’ll sit here and inhale my broken dreams while wondering where it all went wrong.
Because that’s all you can do when you waste yourself away
That's all there's left to do once you’ve worked your *** off to pay the rent and buy some cigarettes.
Why do you need electricity when all you want to do is sit in the dark and wallow in your own self pity.
Thinking about the could’ve beens and the past.
Why do you need water when you honestly don’t give a **** if you die of dehydration.
It would be better than sitting in your torn down apartment smoking until your lungs look just like the ashes in the tray at your side.
Why buy groceries that’ll only waste away with you
There’s no point in paying anything except the rent.
Because when you pay the rent, you pay for your safe haven.
A quiet place where you can wipe away the paint of the day, where the facade can slip until your smile is nothing but aching teeth that haven’t seen a dentist in years.
Till your once bright eyes return to the worn down look of a man who's just seen death.
It’s such a beautiful thing.
Eternal rest, where all of your worries and secrets are lifted from your soul
The body your mother once held thrown in a hole
At a funeral no one would attend because you pushed them away
A body without thought, laying in a bed, with no one crying over the fact that they’ll never make you laugh anymore
Not that you laughed anyways.
Laughing wasn’t something you did, and when you did, it wasn’t genuine.
Every laugh was faked, every smile was fake.
All of it.
The pretty little lies you came up with to impress people.
Bragging about your life when all you’ve ever done was sit in the backyard, sneaking cigarettes so no one would know you had problems.
But they all knew.
They knew your faults and insecurities that you tried so hard to hide away in a dark corner.
You thought that playing the part would make you appear stronger
But it only made you weaker
Weaker in the sense that you would not and could not point out that you needed help.
So when you refused what was handed to you, they stopped offering.
They realized that you were too prideful.
One of the seven deadly sins
And not the only one you so arrogantly displayed throughout your older life.
The wrath you brought upon others.
Little did you know, your defensive temper helped you get rid of your entire life.
Your entire world.
So now you sit and look back at the blurred memories
All of them glamoured with your lies
The ones you came up with to blind you of all of your faults
The ones that made you unwilling to apologize.
So, you’ll smoke.
And pay the rent.
Because as long as you have a cigarette in your pack and a roof over your head, you have some odd sense of purpose.
Then one day someone will stumble upon your sad excuse for a home, and won’t even notice your decaying carcass.
They won’t even care.
Because even though rejection was the one thing you couldn’t bare,
The one thing you couldn’t stand
it was also the one thing you accomplished in your pathetic life.
And your delusional mind makes you laugh
You find it funny
That soon, you won't have money
Then you can’t buy your cigarettes or pay the rent.
And you’ll ask where it all went
Where’s my smoke, where's my money
Why don’t I have any?
And you’ll spend your final moments completely ignorant
And curse the names of the ones you once knew
Because they left you all alone with nothing but some cheap apartment bill and a half empty box of cigarettes.
I wrote this one when dinosaurs roamed, and I always thought it was really cool. So here it is, walking out of it's cave for the first time to feel the sun on it's skin.
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