Smoke-Pit Memory 2.0

Courtesy of soundcloud.com

Smoke-Pit Memories 2.0

Tomorrow would you come, 

a light for my smoky mind, 
tin, grated walls that hold up my world, 
a rough, concrete etched light jagged,

.

Your love is a smoke-pit memory, 
Texas-brown trees allow keyholes of light, 
the fiberglass taste of menthol, 
and a warm throaty rasp. 

Tomorrow you have come, 

a switch i've finally found, 
your little portable player, 
and childhood favorites abound

Your Love is a smoke-pit memory,
and all I have left to say, 
menthol may be your flavor, 
but black and mild was always mine anyway.

Tomorrow you have passed, 
and here's what I have found,

You are my heart's nicotine, 

so sweet, leaving me to drown, 

A solitary iron-grate bench, 
ash a balancing act on each curve, 
A single cigarette sits resting on the edge, 
trails of smoke lifting, floating, dispersing
into the past of a heart once broken. 

Thankful for all these memories, 
a smoke-pit memory bound. 


(This is a little rough yet, but I'd like to eventually integrate the two into one solid piece)