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Nigdaw May 8
I smell on your clothes
the reek of addiction
yellowed fingers betray
your burning passion
Nigdaw Feb 28
I wish I still smoked
**** yeah
It's the ritual
the need to make time
to die a little
opening a new pack
shiny cellophane
the lid flipped back
paper seal for freshness
pulled out to reveal
20 happy moments spent
inhaling, coughing, thinking
the soft packets
where you flicked the
cigarettes out like movie
stars and the Marlboro man
who are all dead now
roll ups, kit form bronchitis
liquorice flavour papers
combining childhood flavours
with adult life takers
the smell clinging to clothes
and hair dragon breath
but we all looked so ****** cool
so adult so grown up
so ****** clueless, *******
on our manly pacifiers
I wish I still smoked
**** yeah
just don't have the courage
some how
stillhuman Jan 17
Remember that summer
when it was dry and heavy
but in the evening
the breeze would gently
sway the smoke
of your cigarette in my hand
when you were trying
to teach me how not to choke

And I remember coughing
and laughing it off with you,
how smoke had always
been around me
but my lungs were funny
'bout this direct approach

And we talked 'bout everything
from heartbreak, to lovers, to family
And I truly felt wonder
at the simplicity of those moments
and how much they meant to me

So much I look back to them now
when it's winter and I'm alone
missing your warmth, your voice
and itching for a smoke
everything matters
Bansi Adroja Oct 2021
Kids still smoke under the tree
where we used to hide between classes
where I told Tom I loved him
a life time ago
but it still feels like who I am
the girl with the crush on the guy in the band
cleobug Sep 2021
in the backyard
lighting up a smokescreen
high on all the thoughts
of what once was and could have been

filled to the brim with these emotions
but i don't feel a thing
how tiring it is to always think so much
and still remain the same
Cold damp skin,
Midnight clouds deepen within,
raindrops brew unto me as i whip out
a tasteless, tarry, smoky cigar.
Feeling the pain of nights rain,
Train horn rings through my veins and I pierce
my cold lips to the plastic casing of my fresh cigar to
continue keeping me feeling alive.

Opening tunes of musical melodies, bringing me a nostalgic time lapse of pain and pleasure.

Thinking of my life as it passes me by,
a bitter, strong taste of smoke hits my tongue, but i blow out the tar filled air out through my warm mouth.
It continues to rain, when i always feel the pain.

Living life as a misfit, unwanted, unloved and always forgotten.
As my dart vanishes into the air, i look through the dark park across the street and remember last nights nostalgic memories of us dancing together to someone else's house party while the live band plays symphonies and rings unending beats into my hair.
Ahmad Attr Jul 2021
They set me on fire
And ask me why I’m burning
They try to put it off with oil
And then they ask why is it not working

It’s quite disturbing,
the things they think
The things they say
The things they do
But you
You are different
I feed you my secrets and they stay there
You listen to me like you really care
And this is why it hurts the most
When you shatter my little hopes
Sometimes I think, if you understand
Then they all will, but sometimes even you don’t
So everything you do matters, it hurts
When you smirk, shudder, scowl and groan

I think it’s time to leave you now
I’m thinking of finding another cry pillow
Maybe smoking cigarettes,
A new way to **** myself
I have tried everything else
I don’t feel anything anymore
Now I try to **** myself in my head
To make me feel alive
Smoking is a slow and pretentious way to die
Slow and pretentious, I think it will suit me

Slowly inhaling the tobacco
As I gaze at the vermillion summer sky
Drinks and ice on the table in my unkempt room
Trumpets of mosquitoes and flies
A classy yet messy poet
Ashes melting as he cries
A beautiful macabre life
And maybe in the downpour of worldly lies
You can join me too
A Cigarette kiss
A double suicide

But I know you
You are different
You won’t sway with me in the scorching rain
As we clatter the wine bottles
You won’t inhale the chemtrails on the table
You won’t hold me, you won’t coddle
You will just run away and leave me be
And say that I am underserving of you
In the end all you will do is
Set me on fire
And ask me why I’m burning
A Cigarette Kiss, A Double Suicide
dorian green Jul 2021
drinking alone, smoking,
playing dead, overthinking,
a psyche made of bad habits
and a stomach that's always sinking.
this is the summer of silhouette,
laying in the shade, apathetic slumber,
the figure of a man in the background,
counting my ribs and fearing the number.
i go transparent in the sunset -
the sickness is tangible, apparent,
just as i knew, feared -
it's buried in my chest, inherent.
i can't get better when
it's just paper mache and cigarettes;
i pray and pray and pray
but no one's heard me yet.
Carlo C Gomez Jul 2021
Holy smoke!

This is a drag.

I've come to depend upon it.

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