— you promised forever,
the smoke used to dangle in the air as i held my breath in, trying to avoid the particles of the nicotine and the prominent rubber scent. my stare used to linger at the edge of the lit cigarette, my mind counting down the seconds until the paper wrapped stick finally faded out.
1,822 seconds.
ten minutes.
you used to wrap your arm around my shoulders, giving occasional light squeezes as your dark lips formed into a gentle o to let the smoke out from your mouth. your eyes would tear up when you coughed, your right hand slipping away from me to lightly pat your chest, dark brown eyes squeezed shut and eyelashes embroidered with salty tears.
no matter how many times you choked on the smoke, you'd refused to burn the death stick out. you'd wipe your eyes, slip your hand back on me and go back to inhaling.
i remember how i once caught you staring at the paper box and the warning written across it, gaze uninterested.
SMOKING KILLS
a small heavyhearted chuckle escaped your lips, eyes still indifferent.
"what's so funny?" i had seethed, and you'd left silence to linger in the air for a moment before you looked away.
"nothing."
and with every syllable of the word you spoke, i realized it.
i realized could never mean as much as them — as much as those cigarettes.
how could i have not? you proved it to me, every fucking chance you got.
you proved how the smoke in your lungs, gave you a painted reality and it didn't matter to you whether i was in it or not. you proved how you would embrace death with open arms, just as long as you could still taste the tobacco on your tongue.
you proved it, even in your last moments.
because once again as you fell into a fit of violent coughs, once again as blood spurted from your mouth and trickled down your chin— your gaze remained on the cigarette and your fingers ever so gently held it.
"last one, eh?"
— but what's forever when you've
got heaven in between your fingers?
