• his place •

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It was warm, cozy,
to me it felt like a
h o m e

His place was my place,
and my place was his.
I felt safe in his abode,
a rare feeling for me -
s a f e t y

It was scented with a soft vanilla,
churned with the sweetness
of the most delicate,
honey droplets;
a forever welcoming smell.

Though now the smell makes
me nauseous and I can't
help but feel
h o m e s i c k . . .

As now,
his place is
no longer my place.
His place is
now her place

Broken Wings - Poetry {COMPLETED}Where stories live. Discover now