my lungs are full of
smoke,
gray matter circulating
and hurting me,
as if ive been smoking
without having a
single cigarette lit.
piles of ashes left behind,
our love burned and turned
into nothing worth having.
lighters left laying around,
reminders of how one little
spark could cause us to go
up in flames.
ashtrays scattered about,
holding our memories
and our secrets,
something that could be shattered
and replaced.
i think i need to quit
smoking the thought
of you.
__
i miss you because you were my first everything
