One More Pack

She's staring at her cigarette,
watching the ember end die out;
Much like her heart,
burning and consuming,
disappearing into the air with dark, suffocating smoke.

She closes her eyes and sees the darkness,
wondering what it would be like to cease to exist;
Wishing she could turn off emotion,
begging God to just let her forget.

There is no mercy in either love or war.
You struggle for life and one more fight,
but sometimes it doesn't come,
Sometimes it just ends.

You can scratch your head and rub your neck all you want,
but he's not coming back.
You aren't his muse like he is yours,
You aren't the love of his life.

You are another notch on his belt,
another woman in his bar fly lifestyle.
If you think you are different you are not.
You are another casualty in a war he is winning,
if you can even call it that.

You let your guard down over and over,
To be let down one more time.
You say never again, never ever again;
yet here you are with a fresh pack of cigarettes,
smoking them one by one wondering why you couldn't be the difference.

The cigarettes, the orgasms, the laughs, the supposed love
They are always temporary,
and they always go up in smoke,
smoldering and dying to be flicked to the side like nothing.
Hurting your lungs, making you unable to breath.