Smoke

I'm just trying not to wonder where you are,
torturing myself, days go by,
stars dance and I smoke myself to sleep,
If I miss you, I'm still sober.

These months will turn into years,
these years, into forever,
I'll stumble through this quiet hell,
hoping I'll see you along the way. 

I just swallowed sadness,
tasted like stale beer and old tobacco,
my heart breaking like waves
my face white like sand. 


(c) 2001 by (++)Laura(++). All Rights Reserved


My Subliminal Guide To Insanity