Sunset Lovers

It’s 5 a.m. The flick of your lighter breaks the thick silence that suffocates us. Smoke billows into our lungs, and exhaled, followed by empty, misguided words.

Your vacant eyes, and that drunken smirk that seems to stretch from ear-to-ear, is a haunting reminder of what has precedence, and who falls short.

You say I’m your girl, but tomorrow will come, and those bare words will be erased, because the poison that’s pumping through your veins is more of a thrill than me.