benthegod

You pull a Marlboro cigarette from you aged bomber jackets left front pocket. From the right pocket you pull a cheap bic lighter. The two merge and fill you lungs with nicotine bliss. The long drags from the cigarette merge into the sounds of the freeway. The fumes of gasoline and exhaust float away from a sea of pearly coated polluters and into the smoggy orange sky. The sun is now directly behind the clouds, giving them a halo. You wonder why nobody, not one, of the frequent pedestrians on the overpass has asked you about the gaping hole in your chest.  Or what at least feels like one. Your heart has been torn out and ripped into a thousan