I. My shirt smells like the cigarette smoke that I haven’t been around all day so that leaves me hoping it’s from your cigarette weeks ago. In that hope I will leave these clothes on and let the remanence of that cigarette burn my eyes.
II. There’s a taste in my mouth and a rush in my breath that I haven’t felt since I last kissed you and I’m left asking myself where it came from because I know it wasn’t from the girl that just left my house.
III. You asked about my past and everything that happened and you sat there in that parking lot with me smoking your cigarette looking ever so beautiful but it’s the question that entailed that bothered me more. You asked me later on why I hadn’t asked about your past and baby girl some question are better left unanswered. I do not want to know what used to make you happy and I do not want to know of the others more fortunate enough to see your soft white skin and glaze it with their lips let alone the fact that I was not even in existence to you at the time.
IV. There’s a spot in my bed that has been untouched for weeks and it has become colder than the outside world because it’s like everything in my life has lost that touch that you gave off. You had a fire in your eyes and veins and soul. You had a passion matching your beauty and it makes me question why we ever sat out at bonfires when we could just sit in my room, you warmer than any fire and the smoke from your cigarettes leaving traces on my clothes worth remembering.
V. The music that you listened to and the air that was lucky enough to touch your lips still bounces off the walls of my room and every time I walk in there’s a rush of air that hits me and it always seems to be cold even though you’ve spent more time there in the past few years than I have in months. I’ve been too busy picking myself up at bars and drinking vodka that burns warmer than your breath going down my throat to be at home alone without you there.