it was raining. it was dark. and you were next to me. it makes me laugh how this was the place i first met you and i think it will be the last time i ever see you. your fingertips were wrapped around a bottle instead of a (cigarette) and mine no longer crave the cold glass pressed against my palm. they crave the heat of ashes as they burn in the rain. you looked so beautiful, baby. you looked so god damn beautiful.

as your hands brought the bottle up to your lips; as your mouth curved into a drunken smile; as your eyelashes batted rain from your face so that it almost looked like you were crying. you looked so god damn beautiful. you reminded me of jack and when we first met. it was raining. it was dark. and he was the streetlights that showed me the way back home.

it's raining. it's dark. and i am smoking a (cigarette) as i remember you. the way your hand shook as you reached over and held mine. they were clammy. they held my hand too tight; almost as if i could stop you from falling into the poison that was in the bottle you love. i remember how you looked at me dead in the eyes and lifted my bottle to your lips and said:

"i don't smoke."

and for the first time in years, i laughed as i let a cloud of your undoing make its way past my lips as i said:

"and i don't drink."

the rain has stopped but it is still dark.