Silently taking my last drags
Burning my fingertips
As it reaches the filter
This stink will linger on me
And on my clothes
Much like you do
On my mind
Impossible to wash off
Impossible to forget
There are burn holes
In most of my possessions 
They add character 
And a form of beauty 
In the imperfections 
Much like how yours
Did the same to you
My parents tell me
“That’s a nasty habit”
“You need to quit”
I know
That they’re right
But I keep on
Lighting up another 
And I continue 
Leaving open space
In my bed
That’s meant for you