the lingering smell of cigarettes on his sweatshirt,
the greasy residue off an engine,
or,
the wood stain for the old dresser in the garage.
all of these things bring me comfort,
joy,
and,
when he's not around,
the smells lingering on the sweatshirt i cling to,
bring me pain.
YOU ARE READING
mind. body. soul.
شِعرa collection of poems, written about myself or inspired by a friend.
