i'm addicted to the aroma
of freshly brewed coffee in the morning.
a steaming mug of delectable goodness
and the warm feeling that it always gives me.
you're addicted to that first whiff of smoke,
the toxic fumes that erupt from your cigar,
the feeling of carelessness evident in your features ,
as you lean against the hood of your broke down car.
I abhorred that foul tobacco scent
as much as you despised the taste of caffeine,
but one look at you on that dreary autumn morning,
I couldn't help but wish for you to finally look at me.
and that you would drop your cigar on the corner of that cursed street,
and walk into the cafe that stood inches from your feet.
and when you do, i don't expect you to utter a word to me,
but just hear me loud and clear,
you think you're the only one with problems?
you don't know shit, my dear.
