I was your cigarette
and you were my lighter.
You lit me up and burned me.
The touch of your spark
made me feel so alive.
With each breath and blow,
you would take a piece of me with you
and let it go
just as fast as you consumed me.
I would relax you and calm you down.
But I was fading away. I was deteriorating.
My ashes were becoming one
with the rubble beneath your feet.
And after you’ve finished me off,
there was nothing left of me.
You threw me away.
I wasn’t special.
I wasn’t unique.
I was just your escape.
I was the nicotine you needed.
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