Cigarettes and Stars

I smoked today. Just one drag to try and calm my nerves. But it didn’t help. I sent you an email today. Just a small one to try and make me feel better. But it didn’t help. I even talked to you on the phone. Why are our conversations always so deep? We can no longer be shallow and superficial with each other. You’ve lost the right to make me happy anymore. Just talking to you used to make me smile or at least feel better. Not anymore. Just a constant reminder of how I screwed up yet another aspect of my life. Another reminder of what I once had. It kills me just a little each time.

After a while I’ll stop feeling. I’ll grow numb and old. Content to live in my plastic-coated world. As cold and as far as the stars above my head tonight. The only warmth coming from the cigarette between my lips.