Half-burnt cigarette...

Midnight wears your shadow like a loaded gun. Every streetlight dies before the morning comes. A hundred thousand reasons tell me walk away. But your ghost keeps breathing every word you never Say. I strike another match against my broken hands. Watching little constellations turn to ash again. This tiny flame is all that's left of what We were. A half-burnt cigarette. Smoke is wrapping softly around my lonely skin. Like the only arms that ever let me in. You never hear the prayers I bury in my Chest. So I exhale your name and let the Silence do the rest. Every burning inch is one more memory. Every fading spark steals another piece of me. The closer to the filter, the closer I become To someone I don't recognize. Burn for me Until the sky forgets my name. Burn for me, Love and fire feel the same. Half-burnt cigarette, you're the last thing kissing These forgotten lips. Hold me close While my whole world slips. Take another heartbeat, I don't need what's left. If he couldn't love me, then love me instead. Half-burnt cigarette, you're the only light that Stays. When every star has learned to turn its Face away. Morning finds the ashes where my hope had been. Another war that nobody will ever win. You leave your little scars beneath my fingertips. Like promises that vanished with his final kiss. People say that time will teach my soul to Heal. But time has never known the way your Absence feels. It only taught my shaking hands How to keep another flame alive. One day you'll burn down to the filter. One day there'll be nothing left to breathe. But he'll never know how many nights I traded Just to keep his memory alive. If love is supposed to save us, Why am I disappearing? Why, why does every breath bring me closer To becoming smoke? Half-burnt cigarette, stay with me until the morning Steals my breath. You're the only one who never Left. Take the last of everything I am. Turn my broken heart to falling ash. Maybe when the wind carries me away. He'll finally notice I was gone. Half-burnt cigarette. Half-burnt cigarette. When your fire dies inside my hands. There'll be nothing left of me. Except the smoke Still whispering his name.