His lips are addicted to the taste of nicotine and coffee 
He likes bitterness 
He smokes every 27 minutes 
And yes, I count the minutes 
He only looks at me every 52 minutes  
Its illogical being jealous of a cigarette, he tells me 
But why can’t his lips get addicted to the taste of me? 
Am I too sweet for him? 
How ironic 
I find myself rather bitter 
But I want his lips to crave me every 27 minutes 
And I wish my veins were filled with nicotine so he wouldn’t leave 
I wish I was that cigarette 
Being gently kissed by his lips 
And I wish I was as addictive as his nicotine lover 
As seductive as her
But his nicotine lover and I are not different  
He smokes us both till we become nothing 
Then throws us away 
Sometimes steps on us to dim our fire 
But we always come back whole 
For him to smoke us once again