An ashtray on my friends back porch
It’s littered with Marlboro ends
My hand, I accidentally scorch
It’s then I lock eyes with my friend
“I should quit, I know” I tell her
But there’s more to it than I show
That everything about the burn
Feels like a boy I used to know
The reds taste the same as your lips
They are all I have left of you
Cigarette buzz comes close to bliss
Maybe I ought to quit you, too.
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