i bought a pack of cigarettes tonight, even though my lungs don't work quite right.
i sat on the stairs in the yard of the old house with its walls crumbling,
with its facade turned to dust.
the air was so cold it stung my fingers, frost licking my face,
turning my cheeks blood-red but nothing hurt
as much as you do.

i smoked a cigarette tonight, even though my lungs don't work quite right.
the smoke filled me up and i feared
it would leak out of all the holes you punched in me.
it didn't. i choked and i coughed and it felt a little like drowning.
like your mouth on my mouth, like your teeth on my neck.
i choked and i coughed and it felt a little like you
so i liked it.
who cares i almost died.

i smoked a second cigarette tonight, even though my lungs don't work quite right.
nicotine ran in my veins,
blue rivers along my pale skin and it felt, it really felt
a lot like love. a lot like you. a lot like us.
galaxies scattered across my skin, poison running in my blood,
yes, it felt a lot like us.
i didn't choke this time, but i think you would have laughed
at the way i ******
on the cigarette ****.

i smoked a third cigarette tonight, even though my lungs don't work quite right.
i swallowed cancer like a drug and it stung
at the back of my throat, and it burned and it burned and it burned
as ash gathered at the burning end
and fell to the ground like snowflakes,
little flakes of ash on my sneakers
and it reminded me of your kisses a little, i didn't choke this time.
i laughed. a bitter laugh.
you hurt at the back of my mind as i put
the cigarette out and i thought about the way
you'd look at me, boldness in your eyes, hair a little all over
the place and your mouth
shaped in a little "o"
as you blew circles of smoke out.

i smoked a fourth cigarette tonight, even though my lungs don't work quite right.
the cold stung but not as much as my lungs burnt and my brain burned
and you hurt.
i blew smoke out but never quite like you did,
and i thought it looked and was a little
ridiculous maybe
to burn the leaves of a plant wrapped in paper
and fill our fragile bodies with the exhausts
we breathe out smoke like broken steam engines,
ain't it funny, haha.
you'd laugh, harshly, you'd bite me, you were always
a little rough.

i smoked a fifth cigarette tonight, even though my lungs don't work quite right.
it's not half as venomous as you were, i decided.
i put it out.
cigarettes are so not worth the hype.
you were.
you are.

we were just children, innocent and free
passing the time underneath that tree
boundless giggles and secrets shared
trying anything that our small limbs dared

you were a bit odd, but so was I
with you I cold be anyone: a hero, a spy
but something in you was never secure
of our friendship you were no longer sure

slowly the tree began to sway
that tree under which we would play
the leaves began to fall one by one
as our bonds were carefully undone

I kept faith, but you never could
and so that tree became nothing but wood
but there I still stood, looking at a graveyard
thinking that I could still keep guard

then I realized the bitter truth:
we are no longer the people we were in our youth
so you can have your friends, and I'll keep mine
and our roots will not again intertwine

and maybe the tree will grow anew
for different children, whose friendship is true.

Think of yourself as a box; chained with an iron lock.

What would you be guarding?

I have lost myself,
While trying to be someone else,
Someone I can not be,
Something I can not do
I lost the peace, once I had
I lost the good in me
I lost my identity
I lost my personality
I don't know how to get it all back
I don't know how to get the old me

front sleeve pockets are for hearts
that are carefully folded into halves.