You Were in Someone Else's Hand...
I saw you today as I turned the corner at 28th and 6th, you were in someone else's hand, the memories came rushing back-- you, me, fingertips touching. It made me sick.
I remembered how it felt to have you inside me, that heady buzz, shortness of breath, you loosened my limbs with your power, you made me all mellow and sleepy. Oh how I loved to hate you and love you, deny you and indulge you. There were days when I was totally consumed and hour after hour all I could do was push you to my lips over and over again. And how I suffered when I left you. Even now, walking down the street, I'll smell you, your scent rising between someone's shoulders on the sidewalk. And it brings a yearning to my heart.
But it was never meant to be for us. You made me sick, dog tired, I'd lose my appetite and stop eating. And after I quit you, I felt better, looked better, performed better. You were killing me yet still I yearned for you and our tumultuous on-again off-again relationship. Even now after all this time, there are moments when I wonder what it'd be like to pull your skinny little body out of my cellophane wrapped pack, place you to my lips and with the strike of a match, inhale you and breathe you back out again. Oh my little lost cigarette, if only we could have had one last smoke together...
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