SynZaVampyre

She sat there at the table, thumbing a cigarette. She lost count of all the ones she smoked that day. Kept getting lost in her own thoughts To the point she didn't give a damn about anything else. Her family would try and talk to her But she no longer cared about what they needed. She just kept thumbing that cigarette As if it was the only thing left in this world. Her husband would preach that she was killing them That the smoke was bad for their lungs. She just told him that he better stop drinking And then she'd go back thumbing her cigarette. Everyday was the same; she wore the same hair Clothes, and even sat in the same chai