Sunsets, Xanax, & Cigarettes

7:39 a.m. the sky is a mix of blue, pink, and yellow. A chill bites the air, snow flurries down. It's a gloomy March dau, not a soul is breathing I stutter for a voice. Listen to me, please! Hold my breath and cross my eyes. I've kept my secrets and scars from prying eyes. An island of sin to waddle away in. All I can think about is you. Your an addiction, a disease. Like cancer, and rain in the summer wind. My enemy is my best friend, my love for you grows ... ... as a heartstring falls dead.