I wish I could quit you. my subconscious cannot help but revolve around you. Back and forth I go, round and round I try, yet everywhere is you.
I seek relief in jumbled dreams that leap away from sense, but of course that is where you are most present, most alive, far, far away from sense, and when I awake I know that I've only dreamt of you because I wake with a dull ache of longing and my limbs are laden with loss. I wish you could vanish, like the puff of smoke I sigh from the final drag of my final cigarette, vanish into cold thin air, but I can't help myself; I simply light another and inhale, breathing in the sickening dizzy fumes and hating myself.
