Smoke

Smoke

 

And I lay here broken,

with just a thin sheet

covering

all that is left

of me.

 

He was a bit brutal.

 

And I could have done without

the whiskey

on his breath.

 

It butchered

what should have been

a fine evening.

 

But at least he left me

some cigarettes,

and a twenty dollar bill.

 

Though not a w***e,

I’ll take what I can get.

 

Funny how they leave

when they finish,

with or without me.

 

Always.

 

I find myself a spider;

my web this bed,

and I kill everything

that comes my way.

 

It’s only the happiness

that has slipped away.

 

And I wish I had a match

to light my cigarette.

 

So I could fill this hole

with smoke.

 

Instead of tears.

Reviews

[Misery]

The test of timelessness: will it last?
Timelessness...words from your past.

[Abigale LeCavalier]

You are too kind!

[Kayleen]

wow excellent. i like the end bit especially