There are so many things that shatter.
Your mother's china, your brand new iPhone screen.
Your heart after your first love explains that they cheated on you with the school sperm-trash-can.
However, none of these compare to the shattering of innocence when you first comprehend your mortality and the evils that are so relevant.
I smoke cigarettes.
Newport shorts.
Newport.
Shorts.
There's something about the chemicals that seem to mend the broken pieces.
There's something about the feeling of a filter on my lips -
that reminds me of home.
Home is firecrackers and smoke that stings my eyes
home is your tongue on mine.
I smoke Newport shorts.
they remind me of what I'm missing.