Every time we hugged, or we kissed,
or you whispered into my ear,
you smelled like cologne and cigarettes.
You tasted like oranges and charcoal.
When you would sing a song that you said was for me,
I knew you were lying.
I knew you were lying when
I would watch the words you spoke
fly out of your mouth as ash.
I wish I knew what brand you smoke,
so I could carry your cancer.