Sometimes I sit in my room
And maybe I think of you
And think and think and think
And start to be filled with gloom
When I first heard you were gone
It was like a sudden bullet to the heart
But looking back at what you were dealing with
I must admit I don't feel smart
I used to see, you know?
You sitting in the lot out there
The way you smoked your cigarettes
And how the smoke wafted in your hair
And I knew you stayed to visit when
The house started to smell like ash
But I really didn't mind
Because you were alive then
And you used to play me funny songs
With odd lyrics and weird voices
But I can't remember their names
So I'll never hear their noises
We both liked crystals
And ketchup and magic
We both liked "ugly" animals
And dolls made out fabric
Mom keeps saying we were so alike
Can I admit that made me scared, you know?
Because when I walked into your crowded room
All I smelled was smoke
The mirror in my bedroom
The handkerchiefs in my drawers
The mask I wore at homecoming
Everything you owned smells like smoke
We cleaned up your house
And something painful inside of my awoke
I could hardly move around the garbage
And everything you owned smelled like smoke
We threw away the receipts
The stained blankets and washed the floors making them wet
We threw out the trash you held onto
And those damn cigarettes
Most importantly of all
We threw out those wretched cigarettes
Everything smelt like smoke
Those evil cigarettes
So when I'm in my room, I'm thinking
And it hurts my head too much
But it's been a few years
Is it selfish to still want your touch?
Is it selfish to still think about
All the things I wanted to tell you?
Is it selfish to think the smell of smoke
Might be awful yet comforting?
If only I could tell you
How much I still hate smoke
Because when I walk by, my throat closes up with chemicals and fears
And I feel I start to choke
I wish that you could tell me
About witches and crystals
Or maybe all about
What you think it means when auras fall
And I wish that I could tell you
How I feel about love
The stones that I collect
And the powers in mountains that tower above
Sometimes I wonder
If you see my through your mirror?
And when you see me dancing or acting
Do you think me lesser?
So many things
I know I'll never know
But now there's a part of my room
That always smells of smoke
And I hate it.
I hate it.
I hate it.
I hate it.
I hate it.
I hate it.
I hate it.
I hate it.
I hate it.
And I hate the comforting smell of smoke.
