I remember when my former best friend made me feel content like no other. When I was angry and needed to smoke me stopped me and told me, “No, don’t get yourself used to smoking when you’re angry or stressed. You can find other ways.” That meant the world to me, because someone actually cared.
I miss that.
I miss him.
I miss those days.
I miss who we used to be.
I miss the closeness.
I miss everything.

Too bad we are so care-less.

No friends,
Just acquaintances.

Maybe if I go away long enough
I’ll forget the reason why I left.

I just want
to move places
and forget faces


I smoke so many cigarettes, I’m seriously killing myself and it doesn’t scare me at all