nicotine and dead men

It's been too long trying to figure out how this stands but I think I've done it I'd call you to confirm it but you probably wouldn't pick up and maybe I'll just call to listen to your voice and maybe I can tell if your breath still sounds like it used to when you were asleep and anyway here's the thing I figured you thought you loved me and I believed I loved you but the devil fucked us both and I think he's the only one who enjoyed

any of it

You're the fever in my veins , a pulsating sickness I cannot change and I am sick in so many ways and ignoring the cure maybe pleading for a spiritual death

But you're 700 miles away chained to your cigarettes and women and I think of your heart every time they show us a smoker's lungs in forensic medicine and I chase morphine into my veins to eradicate the pain but apparently it doesn't work on the brain

And I'm still here choking on your name everytime someone brings it up and wondering what a drink would taste like and if it would really make me forget you and wondering if that's why you put the poison in your mouth in the first place, to make it "all go away "