the smoke from a cigarette.

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The Smoke from a CigaretteI used to love words

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The Smoke from a Cigarette

I used to love words. When the rain used to fall on us in spring,
your eyes would turn hazel in the sunlight, it felt so bliss.
The sound of the wind slamming against the window still reminds me
of the nights where your hands were tangled in these lavender silk sheets. Now you have

nothing, but sand in your hourglass heart, a burning cigarette left in the cold,
I watched your flame turn into ash. Sometimes your name still runs off my tongue.
Sometimes it feels like thorns slowly scrapping along my side, a scarlet rose
trapped in a field of dead yellow grass. I thought you wouldn't pick me

from my roots just to watch me decay. Your name is a cold breeze,
a gentle chill that hits me when I finally move on. Now I love yous don't sound
so sweet. They remind me of the pile of lies you left me to bury.
I am in love with giving my all and not getting anything back.

Yes, I saw this coming. The letters were in bold print, a white billboard on a
busy freeway. I thought loving me would change you, but now I am a dark shadow of
someone I never wanted to be. Someone I couldn't even love and maybe that's why you didn't.

- J.T.R

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