It's cold out
But I'm already numb.
I don't see your face anymore when I close my eyes.
And the only thing I see right now
Is the dark of the night,
And the light
of my lit cigarette


It used to be you.
The light I saw...
It used to be you.

Where have you gone?
I miss you.

What kind of world am I living in without your smile?

To keep myself from ripping apart from stress,
Ive been smoking cigarettes.
And I blame you.

I don't have them often.
Just often enough to know I shouldn't.
But I do.
And, I'd rather die slowly
than feel the pain of losing you.

I survive the day on coffee
my sleepless nights with mentholated coffin nails
wishing I had alcohol to numb the pain
But I don't, because I know myself too well.

I write my thoughts down on paper,
to vent away the pain.
It only works for the instance,
And afterwards I feel it all again.

Strokes on canvas tell a story
of the things I cant bring myself to write
And even after this lit cigarette
I'll still be thinking of you tonight.