I love how you smoke. The way your lips would wrap around your cigarette, how your eyes closed with every inhale. You never knew how badly I wished to kiss you after you exhaled. With every cigarette that fills my lungs, I remember those rare kisses. How perfect the smoke tasted against your lips. I miss your soft skin, and those gorgeous blue eyes. My god I loved when you looked at me. Its so bittersweet, texting you, and sleeping in the same bed you used to lay next to me in. I smoke outside, in our spot as many times as I can. Sometimes I hope you’ll come around the corner, and steal the cigarette from my hand. I keep wanting to ask if you’re still in love with me. You act like it. If you aren't, youre an amazing actress, the kind that can steal someones heart in an instant.
I’m going to get plastered Saturday just to forget your name. It’s funny, I’ll be standing next to him drunk off my ass and still when I’ll kiss him, you’ll be the only thing lingering.
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My Past Memories
Short StoryWho are you when you're desperate enough to find love in anything? Different times, different people. Not entirely sure what to call this "book" but every piece is a day with someone or my personal feelings with them at the time.
