Still Wearing Her Smoke

It never washed off. Never did.

Her jacket’s still on the chair, Like she stepped out for air. Ashtray full of yesterday, But I can’t make it go away.

Her perfume in the hallway, Mixed with gasoline. Every room still tastes like her, Like she’s somewhere I can’t see.

You don’t lose a fire like that You just learn to breathe it

I’m still wearing her smoke, Still breathing her in. Every scar on my hands Feels like her skin. No wind strong enough To clear these lungs. They took her away — But she’s not gone.

They told me time moves on, Like love’s a coat you shed. But she lives in my bloodstream, Not in some memory bed.

Her laugh still hits at night, Like headlights through the dust. You don’t unlearn a woman like that — You just learn to rust.

You don’t burn that deep And come back clean

I’m still wearing her smoke, Still under her flame. Every breath I take Still carries her name. No prison wall, No dirt, no stone — Can tell my heart she’s gone.

If she’s ash, I’m ember. If she’s silence, I remember.

I’m still wearing her smoke, Still living that fire. Every road I take Leads back to desire. Let the morning come, Let the whole town choke — I’m still wearing her smoke.

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