i’ve been smoking sadness rolled into cigarettes
missing you doesn't come easy
i guess
               (does anything?)
because my lungs have blackened
and my teeth have rotted
and my eyes have burned
and my breathe has shortened
and—
               (i’m burning)
i’m gasping for breathe
choking on air and ash and anything
like you.
               (i can’t breathe
               i can’t breathe)
and i’m trying to find air but i’m still inhaling clouds of ash,
poisoning my lungs with nicotine and billows of sadness and unspoken words
neither of us will hear.
missing you really doesn't come easy.
               (i’m sure of it now)