torture: part ii

Torturero: Part II

My cigarette smoke makes
your nostrils flare,
distracting me from your
nonchalance.

I stare and wonder why
so much time was wasted
trying to be someone
I am not.

Your words always pierced,
your ears were always big;
there was always something about you
that made me scared

I started to resent all
that you seemed to be.
Was it because I
stopped worshipping you?