Covering Cigarettes

not my best, but here.

The things you say to me,

they are equivalent in pain

to stabbing my brain with the burning end of a cigarette.

The ash falling down my body just lay over my beating heart,

covering my pain, hiding it.

So, when something happens, anything,

I won’t feel the pain of the words,

but instead I feel a burning in my brain

telling myself that what was said,

or what went down

was supposed to hurt me more than my heart feels.

 

S.L.S.