Lighting up under
Abandoned bus stops
Where the threat of
Raindrops
Seem distant enough
Because
She hates the smell
Of cancer in
Enclosed spaces.

Inhale

Familiar feel of
Grey nicotine-tinged smoke
Drifting lazily in his lungs
Calming

"Why can't you just listen for once?"

Frayed

"You're going to bloody-"

Nerves.

"-kill yourself."

Exhale

"What?"

He
Tastes like ash
She
Tastes like fury

"Are you afraid to die?"