Nonsensical poems, extreme caution suggested

Confusion of a meaning

It is the smell of lost faith, the shuddering cringe of hope, things that where or what might be, a gleam of tears in an eye, from joy or devastation? Decay and death, a chlorine sweet flower clawing it's way through the earth, mixing into the aroma of rot, transforming it into something all together gut wrenching and beautiful, if you try to lock it down it's liable to creep back up your throat and suffocate you, or just fill you up for once.
The trick is, to let it come and go, hang about you like a gauzy cloud or a cloak, let it slip and slide across yourself, trail in you wake, and sometimes, in a hot shower, or in a ray of sunlight, you can shed the invisible cloth, if only for a moment, then you gather it back around you like a worm embrace, or a cold jacket.
But most don't take this approach, for them, an internal, eternal, fight is omni present, like a gut full of rock or liquor, or emptied of all, craving fader.
because in the end, opposites Balance on a knifes edge, or like the knife itself, one side sharp, the other blunt, so easily to mistake one side for the other, or to tip the scale, so one washes away the other.
Then there is the person who uses both methods, and in doing so make a new one, they let it flow through, around and into them, at once it make them stronger and weaker, for it. they keep it tucked in a cheek, or in a pocket, let it mist over their hair and arms, they tug it along on a rope like a solen dog, or leave it behind their eyelids, where they can see it every time they blink or close their eyes.
The draw back to this is that you can not easily set it down, but to compensate the weight of it is lessened by half.

An: I know it's not like the others I've done so far, but it meant something, and I wanted to put it out there.
what do you think of it?
8-3-22