I love your lips on mine.
Don't replace my lips with your cigars.
Don't give yourself scars.
I love the taste of your lips, so much.
Don't replace that taste with all that alcohol you buy.
I love touching your face, feeling it so effortlessly.
I love holding your hand, I don't want to let go.
But you think this is a joke.
You flirt too much, not with other women, but you flirt.
I love you, but you won't ever understand.
You've become soulmates with what you use all your money on.
Cigars and that stupid beer. Don't flirt with death.