The smell crawls into my nostrils like the 100 times before.
It calms me immediately and my mind drifts off to a place where only damp towels and fresh bedsheets exist.
The fragrance my mother always wore sinks into my soul like an unclogged drain.
My pulse calms down and the memories of every time I crawled my way into my mothers arms takes over my brain.
The memories of her arms around my shaking body after a too long day and her soothing words of affirmation.
That feeling is what I'm yearning for in life.
I'm wondering why I didn't always go for that.
-my mothers perfume
YOU ARE READING
So I write
PoetryWas a bit depresso in 2022-23,here is the aftermath:) TW: -mention of self harm -depression -mention of suicide
