Smoke filled lungs,
the result of
a broken heart and
a loss of purpose.
I keep reminding myself
that I don't want you.
A throat that burns
with every breath,
the result of
words spoken out of hate.
Get the fuck out of my life.
Fingers that feel
like the stars;
tingly and
wrapped tightly around
the slim object.
-tell me where you want to go-
Tear filled eyes,
the result of
smoke filled breath
released as a cry.
-why are you shaking-
(come with me now)
Bags under eyes,
the result of
sleepless nights spent
drawing on paper
and maybe a little
on my skin.
-you are a work of art-
An irregular heartbeat,
the result of medicine
with a hint of
(have you been eating?)
-of course-
A walking corpse,
the result of
what goes on
of her head.
(never come back.)