Fake Cigarettes

Ever since that night I've been restless.

You can't get tan from moonlight.

Someone seems always at my back,

breath tickling the hairs on my neck,

and if I just reached far enough,

I'd feel their skin, cold to the touch, just like mine.

You know I've never smoked in my life

but I bought a pack anyways.

I let one hang from my lip

while I sit on the curb and watch nightwalkers.

I've got enough problems in my life that give me urge and hunger,

no need to throw nicotine into the mix.

Like the last time I saw you.

My chest ached and I couldn't eat for days.

Everything felt raw.

I don't want this in my life, never really have.

But my body is fighting me every step of the way.

So what if I sucked your blood,

it doesn't have to mean anything. Right?