You smell like cigarettes
and the cheap perfume
that keeps you company all night.
Your hands shake
when you light a fire but I
still manage to catch a spark.
You burn me like a pack of Golds
and inhale me
into your hollow chest.
And I’m not sure if you love me,
or if I’m just a vice that gets you through the night.
You smell like cigarettes
and the kisses that you consume
with every stick.
Your hands shake
as you light a fire;
but you douse the spark between you and I.
You burn me like your pack of Golds,
and press my ashes within
your hollow heart.
And I think you love me,
but I’m not the cheap perfume that’ll only last a night.
