the slow art of breathing bitter

Cigarette Lies

Tears have damped my cheeks red.

Splashes of black ruin my eyes,

Smudged crimson around my thin lips;

Wrecked and shattered paintings of cherry-red fantasies.

I promise I won't cry

the time you'll kiss me goodbye.

Smoke curls around my lungs —

You're a long gone storm,

how heavy around my body,

slowly burning the chaos and blooming

in the dead-night beauty.

The spiral hallways and pixie lights

flicker as I walk through;

smoke tendrils chant hymns of yours

before dissipating in the bleeding soil.

I wonder where those excuses fade away

and our love begins.

All those times you pulled me closer

and whispered late-night love

have passed like a flicker of flame.

The cigarette smoke remained

in the shades of indigo,

the crumbled mountains,

and the penciled sketch of yours near my bed.

The hourglass has an infinity tattooed around it.

I remember when you told me I was special

and drew echoes of poetry on my decayed bones.

My blue skin has forgotten to breathe

in your clogged excuses; I ain't crying anymore.

Probably 'cause I haven't heard "special" recently.

The smoke stinks sweetly in my nostrils.

The burnt cigarette gets crushed in her heels.

You've walked away with someone else,

and we don't have to pretend anymore.

——————————————

A/N: The little star's seeking honesty too ;)