My brain feels like mush
But sad
I want to cry until my lungs burn
I crave that more than a cigarette
I once smoked half a pack in one day
On the memorial of somebody I once knew
They were pall mall reds
The bold smokes
Strong and full of tar
I'd smoked the occasional one after that
One to five since then
But I haven't finished the pack
Those three year old smokes
Sit in my room
Lost amongst the memories and the lies
Maybe I just need sleep
I haven't slept well the past while
How long that's been now
I can't keep track
But I think I need some sleep
Or something that'll
Take away
This pain
Or whatever it is
YOU ARE READING
Poetry Book 4
Poetryhello again! another poetry book - number four, to be exact. if you've been here a while, you know the drill: there's no order to this thing, and after 100 poems or writing pieces, there's gonna be a new book. about the cover: it was a Thursday at S...
