drenched in blue moonlight
I admired her through
the sheet of smoke
in the gap between us
swayed and our arms
greeted with a gentle graze
"I tend to see the glass as half empty–
Sudden words drew me
like water from a well
A cigarette pinched by
the uneven crescents of her lips
pulsated, her sallow face
awash in a delicious red glow
"Either way, it's a beautiful glass,
She fumbled another
to a faintly open mouth
I lit it in silence
Down the back alley
on the cold winter evenings
your eyes stared only at me
I didn't smoke
as my father gave up
yet i didn't dare disagree
you parted your lips
you drew in a breath
and your body relaxed in turn
you grin and you show me
how much your body did yearn
for the taste of a cigarette
the embers and ashes
matches and lighters, causing flickering flashes
you said I didn't have to
but I said I didn't mind
that the smoke in your mouth would soon be in mine
I did not draw back
my mouth- under attack
I just had to last the duration
because I didn't smoke
the taste scorched my throat
and gave off a burning sensation
It must have felt different
as just in an insant
You stub out the cigarette with a hiss
and now more at ease
oh, the things that you do for a kiss
I do not need alcohol to have
I do not need cigarettes to be
I do not need dope to be
I need to feel you in my
I need to breathe you in with every
And even if you’re just a high,
I want to never come
I do need you.
Thank you to everyone commenting, reacting to, and liking my poem! If you enjoyed this poem and want to see more of my writing, follow me or check out my website, www.wonderforest.net! Also, my poetry book will be out on the site and on Amazon, April 16th!!
I held the flame
of a cigarette
to my arm
I closed my eyes
when I did it
But I still heard:
I sizzle when I burn
my eyelids saved me
from having to stare
into the fire
as it ate up the skin
of my forearm
my flesh falls away
CONTENT WARNING: Description of self harm
Both can ****
The only difference is
Cigarettes shatter lungs
She shatters everything
I remembered the first moment
my lips pressed the filter
as I lit it up breathed it all
savored every smoke
as if we covered up painful lies
in a container of painkillers
The same way
we used to pressed our lips
sparked something between us
savored every moment we had
as if our love was a rose
in a valley of tulips
She lit the flame at the end of his lipstick stained cigarette,
smoking it was like kissing her all over again.
The smoke burnt his eyes and scratched his throat,
attempting to breathe the oxygen just wasn’t there.
She suffocated him.
Their love like a cigarette, set alight and raised to rebellious lips.
Their romantic tragedy like smoking in the rain,
It was painfully beautiful yet short lived.
She became his addiction, little by little she consumed him.
If only he could quit her.
His lungs would not ache when he’s alone.
Unlike his cigarettes, she didn’t come with a warning label on the cover.
She did more damage to him than the cigarettes ever could.
So, he left her and returned to his lipstick stained cigarettes.
She left a hole in him no amount of nicotine could ever fill.
Now he lights cigarettes just to watch them burn.
You give my heart disease
And like ash,
You carry no substance
especially in the purity of water
Your scent brings distaste
Bitter with toxic chemicals
a form of cancer.
You go well with,
the finest bottles of wine
A ritual of ours
Now only used
to mask your burns.
My biggest addiction
I need another box of cigarettes
You used to be
the air that breathed
into my lungs, now
it's full of thick fumes
it dangles between my fingers,
burning bright & precarious
but solid, like us
or so I believed
a long exhale, leaning back
my legs crossed,
because that used to
be yours too
smoke blurs my vision,
as I realized I've swapped
one bad habit
and that the smell
of tobacco and cold air,
makes me feel
close to you
ash begins to fall and the heat
gets closer to my fingers,
the further I wander
through memories of you
and when the ember
threatens it's presence,
I'm awakened to the reality
that you burned away the same
as every cigarette
on my lips
I can feel my lungs collapsing with every shallow breath
And I can't decide if it's the holes left behind from
cigarette smoke burns
Or the pieces of me that followed behind you
It's 10:05 and as much as I keep trying to warp the truth
the minutes tick on leaving me stranded in seconds of long lost times
Wishing from fruitless bones
Remembering could have beens that weren't
And chasing endings that never quite were within reach
And I know cigarette fills don't last
But I can ******* time running out
And my bones refuse to give away hints to weather it's a
countdown or liftoff
The essence never quite strong enough to disguise
the bitter after-taste your words left behind
It's 4:00 am and as smoke fills my lungs
I vaguely remember being told
the only souls awake are the lonely and the loved
Now it's been months since I was introduced to this hour but still
all I feel is nothing.
You told me pretty girls don't light their own cigarettes
but that never stopped my lungs from burning
every time you breathed my way
Leaving scars of razor sharp words never spoken
Pushed down to the hollow of my scorching throat
Thirsting for the oasis of the syllables
they were never quite within reach of quenching.
They say cigarettes curve your hunger.
And I guess they're almost right because
so far all this nasty habit has curved is
My appetite for you
Now it Hurts to realize that the attention
I mean cigarettes
You willingly offered were just cleverly disguised poison
Burning away my insecurities only to reintroduce them in misunderstood exhales of passion
All I have left to feel are my lungs gasping for every last breath
Lungs pulsing for every last breath
Lungs shrinking to accommodate every last breath
You took away from me
I've fallen in love with a ghost, a man, an angel with crooked wings.
I've fallen in love with the way he speaks, every tick and twitch, the way he looks when he's anxious.
I want to preserve him in poems and picture books.
His soul bears the weight of every cigarette and tear he has shed.
Poor lonely ghost, why do you hide behind closed curtains and mountain man ****** hair?
Poor lonely ghost, no one can get close to you,
Only because you are too scared of getting hurt.
So instead, you hurt yourself because it's easier this way.
Poor lonely ghost, you live inside a cave, insist it's better being alone with your things and your heavy thoughts.
But the weight, it grows.
Poor soul, you were not built to hold the weight of a lonely mans world.
With all of his tears and broken hearts and anxieties and cigarettes and sad poetry.
Please take care of yourself, my lonely ghost.
And please try to open to curtains and watch the sunrise.
Everything is grey.
so I make my lungs pitch black
She puts the cigarette between her lips
and I imagine myself in it's place.
She smiles and I see
the sparkle in her eyes that I live for.
My mind becomes cloudy
as she blows smoke from her mouth.
"Smoking is bad for you."
I say, looking over her.
"So am I."
I say, before she turns away.
I'm jittery as ****,
just plain out of luck.
Wishing I could duck
out and take just one drag.
Surely, that wouldn't be so bad.
I'm going a tad mad.
My will has never been ironclad.
The arrow is drawn back, held steady, and released from the Cupid’s bow.
As It turns, twists, and dances, trivial environmental disturbances are made evident
Though every inhalation pierces my lungs like a flicker from the eye of the serpentine queen herself
It’s organic neighbor is slowly revived and and rises in speed
I feel atmosphere thin and calm around me as the conical burn falls stripping me of my quiver
And all I have left is a
There’s a certain romance brought on by the wind
Before my doctor's visit Wednesday after work
I smoked two just to see whether I remembered
The taste of ash, mint and tobacco leaf
The stuff of life and death, the bitter and the sweet
Hurrying across the busy street
I looked up to see Mother Mary there
With dark eyes, olive skin, and wind-tossed hair
She seemed tired and a little sad
But her face was kind and she had God on the line
And ash on her brow, which reminded me of the day
I repented and gave the rest of the cigarettes away
We stayed late talking
Whiskey and a packet of Viceroys
You held my hands lightly,
Fighting me off as
I grabbed your collar, laughing
Exhaling smoke into your mouth
Our hot lips touched momentarily
And we were taken aback
It was as if
I'd been smacked across the face
Wake up! Here it is!
Love is here with you!
the best kind sneaks up on you
maybe if I didn't see you that summer day
maybe if I didn't hear your laugh
maybe if I didn't talk to you the first day we met
maybe if I didn't ask for your name
maybe if I didn't wish to be your friend
maybe if I didn't follow you around all summer
maybe if I didn't see you in the hallway so much
maybe if I didn't buy you things
maybe if I didn't get your friends to like me
maybe if I didn't see you stare at me when 'I wasn't looking'
maybe if I didn't kiss you in front of the courtyard
maybe if I didn't ask you out on my birthday for luck
maybe if I didn't let you in
maybe if I didn't hold your hand so tight
maybe if I didn't text you so late at night
maybe if I didn't talk so much
maybe if I didn't call so often when you were sad
maybe if I didn't spend so much money on our two-month gift
maybe if I didn't tell you so much
maybe if I didn't smoke so many cigarettes
I would have been better off.
cigarette smoke clogs her arteries
twelve packs a week
bleeding teeth and nails dawdle in her broken hallucinations
the cloud of harsh chemicals mask the iron in dust
it coats her tongue and hands and feet
the minerals latch onto the crevasses of her flesh
refusing to relinquish their rightful territory
she knows all of this
all it took was ages in a bathtub
overcome with mildew
for their stubborn tendencies to become evident
she's since abandoned attempting to scrub the brine away
this poem has been published in The Gifted Penman's Poetry Collection: Volume One
Loving you is like being addicted to cigarettes
I know I am hooked and I despise it
But my, Oh my! Will I ever stop smoking.
Rambling mumbo jumbo, sorry
my ex-lovers mouth is not a
place I'm proud of lurking
drowned in alcohol and cigarettes
were from all the stress of working
remind me again why you liked me? it was faulty at best