Cigarettes and Wattermelon Bubblegum

She sat on my back steps,
and smoked a cigarette.
She told me her life story,
and chewed watermelon bubblegum.

After a few weeks,
we were inseparable,
or so I thought,
then came that night.

Apparently she was hurt,
and no one knew but her.
She hid it well,
no one could tell.

Many times,
she had been hurt,
many nights,
she cried alone.

She thought,
she had hope.
But too soon,
it was gone.

But that night,
she let us all know.
She had decided,
it was her time to go.

That last time I kissed her,
as she lay in her casket,
I could swear she still smelled,
like watermelon bubblegum and cigarettes.