I will never be that cigarctte that you burn out
But somehow I have this burning envy for it
Somehow this jealousy is here without a doubt
In which I wish I am that cigarette
Not because they touches your lips
Or because you breathe on it
Just like the way I wanted you to inhale my scent
The way I wanted your kisses
The thing you only misses
To the point
That you will get addicted
To the point that I could be the one
Entering your senses
Exploring you
The way I wanted to
But I can't
Never....
I am jealous
Because that is what you look for
And you claim the need of it
That strong desire to hold it
To have it in your hands
When you're stressed
You love its fire
The one you never saw in my eyes
And you said I am cold
And you choose its company
Alone...
And I am jealous
Not because you hold it between you fingers
With so much care so you would not crush, Break And waste it
I envy your cigarette
When you throw it on the ground
Knowing you have enough of it
And no matter what
There will always be a part of it
Left....
A portion that other people could see
It's been there
Used
But there unlike me
When you left me,
There was nothing
You left me with nothing to remind myself how do I
Smell, Taste, Look, Feel, Sound
And I was turned into that ashes
And that smoke you puffed
Gone into the thin air
And somehow
I envy them
Even more.....
And I wish
I was that cigarette
But don't you think
I was just perhaps crazy?
And don't you think
I might agree with you...

© wingedwriter