I get reminded of that cigarette smell inside of her lungs,
I think of the smell of her breath,
The taste of her lips.
But it’s very bitter
With that abyss
That’s inside of her bosom
Growing in her insides like a prison..
I got curious about what was so great about the taste,
Maybe you’d rather let yourself waste
Than save some space
In that little place in the back of your mind.
I grew more curious and blind to later on find
That I, myself, grew more addicted to the smell..
So addicted that it afflicted my mind..
And I fell,
Fell into that abyss that you call “a stress reliever”
I grew up more and you were away for a while..
I snuck into the room that had the smell,
I grabbed it and went outside..
I lit it up and my lips touched it..
The smell and taste was different than this..
I hid it and ran away.
I didn’t want to be caught in the action for your dissatisfaction..
The satisfaction in your smile was what kept you going..
Won’t you take the action to stop your impaction upon your lungs?
0 Like | 0 comment