A puff of smoke, and you're gone.

you're a mess, and I no longer know who you are.

Your stares no longer linger,
your eyes no longer shine
your embrace is as cold
as the looks you give me.

your casualness, which was once a comfort
now befuddles me.

your lips are cracked and dry,
rough against mine;
a reflection of what we’ve become,

what we are.

you escape
a puff of smoke
enveloping, enveloping around you.

you close your eyes and look so lovely,
so happy,
so in love.

the embrace of the smoke must be
warmer than any I’ve ever given you...

warmer than any you’ve ever given me.

the smoke you’ve succumbed yourself to can keep your cracked, dry lips
it can keep your cold embraces.
It can keep your casualness,
your uncaring eyes.

and I’ll look back at you as I walk away,
wrapping your dry lips around it
and I’ll see the puff of smoke you let out
and I’ll see how it wraps around you
and then,

I’ll see nothing.

Author's Note

messy. ignore lack of body and structure. just pure emotion.

Reviews

[BenightedWhispers]

Wonderfully crafted. I enjoyed the passion. So many thoughts of the meaning to your poem ran through my mind. Ah, 'tis a wonderful feeling your morbidness hath given me.

[RWPhoenix]

I love poems that are "messy". This one was very good.

[Steven]

Who cares about body and structure, writing/poetry is all about emotion to begin with. As messy as it is, it's still a good write.

[The Morbid The Merrier]

Thank you :) This humbles me greatly.