You asked me to stop smoking cigarettes. You told me that they’d turn my insides into ash but you forgot to mention that you would too.
Now I go through a pack a day and my hands won’t stop shaking. Everyone tells me I should stop, but destroying myself reminds me too much of you.
And believe me baby, I’ve tried to exhale the breaths we shared when we kissed and even when I run out of breath, I still have yours but what if I didn’t? What if I never loved you enough to die for you?
I’d like to tell myself that I’d be fine if your lips were never against mine, but you’re one who took away the shovel when I was digging my own grave.
I knew you loved me then, so why did you leave me here alone with my thoughts, a pack of cigarettes and shaking hands? Was my love not enough for you? If you come back, I promise to stop smoking. Please come back.