Red Dot

Home is where I feel unsafe, dwelling in the poison of Nicotine filled air, I smoke the cancer stick, I smoke your memories, your lies And the false dreams that you made me see, And I hear your face, with that smile of a five year old, it echoes inside me forever, runs through my veins, and pours down on the white marble floor... The room is dark, The door and windows are closed, The last cigarette is burning, hanging precariously from the left corner of my dark lips, almost finished a small red dot in the dark... Home is where I feel unsafe, dwelling in your memories. Home is where I feel safe, Drowning down in darkness with an unseen fog of cigarette smoke, and a faint, dismal, yet visible red dot.