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.