Habits

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"ITS A FILTHY HABIT!"

The words trailed after you

Followed by the sound of a slamming door

The picture frames on the walls trembled

The cigarette wich you had torn out of my mouth

It had reduced to a smouldering black stub

The white smoke tendrils tickled my nose as I scooped it up and threw it away

Leaving a black smudge on the pale floor boards

I set out off to your house

Through the door you slammed so hard

But you had your lips pressed against someone new

So I walked away with a new cigarette pressed against my lips

And I resolved to quit my bad habit

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