On your birthday, I smoke a cigarette
For you, inhale deep, hoping it kills me.
Acetic smoke coats my lungs with regret,
And I wonder: Is there a world where we
Still burn with bright, blistering obsession?
We were skin-on-skin touch blazing red-hot,
Hungering hands, lipstick-stained addiction.
Your nicotine smile ran off with my heart.
I always deserved better. Still, I feel
My heart long for those days- when I fell fast
With consequences never seeming real,
And chased menthol kisses too sweet to last.
You scorched my skin, but your heat was my home.
I still miss you.
(But only when I’m alone).
Give All To Love 