You once reminded me of water.

Smoke is commonly an unwanted by-product of fire.

My thoughts of you are like smoke.
They have a supernatural way of following me.
I push them away, and cause a momentarily relief,
But they reform and come back with a vengeance.
They cling to my hair, my skin, I can't escape them.
They fill me and dull my senses.

I turn from them and try to leave, to no avail.
They thicken and surround me.
I beg for a breath without them.
Their weight forces me down.
Desperately I push at them,
I try to fill myself with something else,
Someone else.
It's hopeless, I surrender to them.
And as I collapse to the ground,
And they consume me...
I smile.