Let it be me.

Why do you do It baby? A million answers to that question. And when I say don't do it please, nothing to back me up. Even though I don't do it, I somehow know all the answers to that question. It's your support system, it's the only thing that you can look back to, you can count on, it doesn't ask questions, it understands, when you love it it loves you back, it doesn't complain, your go to, your only confidant, the only thing that was there when no one and nothing else was.

But baby, I'm here now. I can be all those things for you, that's what I'm here for, that's what I want to become for you.

And you have no idea how much I wish I could say each and every word of that to you, I love you, but I'm too broken to fix someone else. I'm too much of a risk to take. I want you to leave this thing that's killing you because it's only temporary but then again so is everything else, so am I . But I promise you my love, the day I know I'm permanent, is the day you won't need something that kills you to help you survive, it'll be me. You'll have me, and you shall need no one and nothing else to face this cruel world.

But baby, till then. When you call me up too high from that smoke, evey single time my heart aches. Like you smoke and I hurt, so I wish. Oh my love, how much I wish I could ask you. Why do you do it? Please don't do it, for me.

Let it be me that kills you, let it be a beautiful way to die. What's more tempting? Being murdered by something as shallow and insignificant as a plastic box which only gives out smoke, or by something as beautiful as our love?