Cigarettes and closed blinds

We sit around the fire watching the flames fluctuate.  The wood turns black like the end of your cigarette.  Lights shine through the window from the city, and gunfire.  War is happening, and you think that I will protect you.  What gave you that idea?  Was it the money?  Or the house, or the ornate coffee tables?  They will not protect you.  I will not protect you.

I tell you to stay, but you go.  You tell me ‘forbidden fruit tastes the sweetest’.  I’m left alone in the apartment room hoping to find solace in the words of the music playing from the old record in the corner of the room.  You expected me to follow you, but I didn’t.  Now I am left alone in this room, in this world.  Do I dare go outside?  I closed the blinds in hopes to erase the memories, but I forgot about the broken down door.

The town went to hell, and I wonder if you paid a visit.  I hope you found what you were looking for.  While I’m left burning photos and putting out the fire, I wonder why you ran.