Work Text:
Portrayal of smoke.
I know it’s over but I can’t move on, I still hang onto it.
This sweet addiction, this sweet thought, the cane sugar rolling off of my wet tongue.
And I can’t help it if it makes me, if it makes me sick.
I know everyone spares glances my way, reminding me of my deepest fantasy, being buried below under the damp Earth of Terra, collecting moisture beneath my slick flesh.
And I can’t help it if it makes me, if it makes me weep.