smell of cigarettes/you/sloppy daily

Numberless cigarette packets are piling up day by day.

This relationship started hastily.

But unconciously, it has become indispensable.

Just as you cling to your cigarettes,

I give myself up to you helplessly, and make my life shorten by your cigarrets.

The cigarette smoke you exhaled circulated lazily through the narrow,

cramped six-tatami-mat apartment,

and eventually passed through my nose and fills my lungs.

The smell of cigarettes, which I really disliked at first,

now that I found it makes me comfotable.

Lately, it's been so bad that the smell makes me feel irresistibly at ease.

Have I finally been addicted by the nicotine?

Have I been beaten by the addictive properties of cigarettes?

No, it seems I only accept the cigarettes you smoke.

Once I lost my bloody mind, I ran to the convenience store,

but I don't know what brand you smoke,

so I tried desperately to remember the ones you always smoke,

and I did my best to tell him by pointing.

As expected, this behaviour was too young to buy cigarettes, but to the high-school part-time worker, this behaviour seemed quite suspicious.

I was asked to confirm my age for the first time in a long time.

I looked very young in my driver's licence, which I hadn't seen for a long time.

But I looked a little sad.

I looked a little tired in the showcase of a fast food, but I looked happy somehow.

I casually paid and left the shop quickly,

and put my hand on my cigarette.

But without a lighter, I couldn't start anything.

I rushed back into the shop, feeling embarrecing.

I grabbed the lighter and ran out of the shop.

The night was already deep,

and a short distance away from the glaring,
annoying lights of the convenience store,

there was genuine darkness.

I light a cigarette.

As soon as I do, my surroundings become dizzyingly bright.

But it's not like that in the convenience store.

It was like a light that gently illuminated only me.

But when I actually inhaled it.

I couldn't stand it any longer and coughed.

I felt like I couldn't accept you

and a bit alone and lonely,

but I never thought of smoking again.

The next night.

I went to your house and I could still smell the bad smell of cigarettes.

But something was different.

Your perfume, fabric softener, shampoo and cigarettes.

Various smells fill the six-tatami room.

I love this unstable smell.

This relationship, which I don't know when it will be thrown away like cigarettes, is also very special.

Because of your character, it makes me feel even sadder and lovelier.

Not like cigarettes,

I wanna be like a lighter for you.