My favorite smell,
Is the smell of fresh, crispy, bacon
At the end of a night shift.
So ready to go home
To my own homemade
Breakfast.
My favorite sound
Is the perfect note
At the end of the song.
Resolution ringing in the air
As if the heavens themselves
Are applauding.
My favorite touch
Is from a best friend's hug.
Knowing that there is no reason
That they are there.
No force.
No lies.
Just love.
YOU ARE READING
Poetry. From the broken soul.
شِعرPoetry written over a time span of over ten years. This includes some of my darkest and lightest moments and the stories of others. Most deal with topics such as suicide, depression, family, eating disorders, religion, self harm, acceptance, recover...
