Our Currents

the last time I kissed you
it tasted of stale love
and cigarettes,
the kind that
make your chest hurt later on
when it’s gone.
like a reminder that
it’s slowly killing you,
unacknowledged,
but aware.
and you don’t care.
we’ve drifted since then,
like sails on separate boats,
aware of each other
but we both know it’ll never happen.
not again.
not like before.
you don’t feel same,
and neither do I.
to be honest,
I’m the only one that cried.
though our currents may not cross,
the sound of your name
and your captivating eyes
will never be far from my mind.
and I’ll smoke a cigarette
to remind me of the taste
of you.