cigarettes ✔

( lungs )

do you remember when we first met? you were leaning against a wall, a guitar strapped to your back (even though you had no idea how to play it) with a leather jacket on, trying to look cool. you had a (cigarette) between your lips and each time you blew out the smoke, you would turn and look at me, smiling slightly so i could see the dimple poked into your cheek. i can almost smell that beautiful, beautiful smoke that drifted my way.

i find it funny how i used to love the smell of (cigarettes) and the smoke that came off it; i used to love what it felt like when i first tried to have one. i remember feeling the disgusting cloud of murder make its way down my throat and make a home in my lungs, rooting itself into my alveoli; but now, i don't think i liked anything about (cigarettes) at all. i think i liked the way you would smile when i asked you for a (cigarette) and the way you would laugh so hard you could choke on the smoke. i liked the late nights we had, watching endless films and making bitchy comments about each of the character, throwing our burnt out butts at the television screen.

i can no longer hear your laughter anymore. i can only hear your harsh words in my ears every time i light up a (cigarette), laughing at how i struggle to breathe because YOU filled my lungs with never ending hate. you turned each and every atom in my body into dust and replaced them with the nicotine of your empty, pointless words. you filled my lungs up with blackened smoke and the ashes of my ending life.