cigarette

it’s 2 am, and it’s chilly out,

i sit in my living room with nothing to ponder about.

my cigarette is lit, 

and it’s killing me bit by bit.

your face flashes across my phone screen,

memories flash by like a tragic scene.

and i start to feel,

was it in my head, or was it real?

because you kissed me like you were saying goodbye,

were you telling the truth, or was it a lie?

i see you, still, but you aren’t there,

you aren’t in the clothes you used to wear.

the ghost of your being haunts me,

it’s been six months, and we still don’t meet.

everything i have, was one yours,

i gave you my everything, it was ours.

and then, the scene that played out,

was just as i feared.

because, just like the smoke from my cigarette,

you disappeared.

v.k.