when we were young. its weird how when we were little we could entertain ourselves for days with the littlest things. now its like we have the whole world at our hands and still nothing is good enough.
i live in a room full vanilla candles; their supposed to be delightful. sensual. calming. romantic. this is anything but. all i could smell was cigarette, seemed to be caressing me the whole time; i liked it far more than the scent of the candles, though i will never admit it. now i roll over to an empty left side. you were laying next to me just minutes ago. i listen for the click of my front...
40…. 45…. 50…. 55…. 60. 60 seconds turns into 60 minutes. 60 miles an hour. The night silhouettes your body, all I see is the orange glow burning against the black sky as we are driving down the highway. I inhale the scent of warm air mixed with nicotine. Nostalgia is starting to kick in. The smoke is slightly burning my eyes for the first time for some reason. I...