drag

We lit cigarettes, held them to the wind

taking drags every time we felt the chill of the wind run down our spines.

That moment will always be treasured in my mind,

Just as words are forever embedded on lines of books.

This is thrill, this is happiness, this is love at its peak. Though,

Cigarettes don’t burn forever; their warmth growing weak, dying just as we do.


As our cigarettes burnt out, so did our love.

So did our passion, our happiness, the thrill felt in each drag.

It became harder to breathe as I watched our love burn away.

Or was that just the seething dog-end of the cigarette making it harder to inhale?


I had fallen in love with that moment in time. It was simple, yet beautiful.

That was thrill, that was happiness, that was love.

Now you're just the smoke I cough up at the exhale of a drag.