Typed Music

Poems.

I suppose these are just little pieces of me, wrapped up in words.

The forgotten melodies of my mind.

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13. My Smell

I suppose I must smell a little like
The toxic after-taste
Of all my wasted dreams
And a little like
The strawberry lip-gloss
I try to hide them in.

I suppose I must smell a little like
The acid, boiled-out sweat
Of all my ballet classes
And a little like
The satin pink trappings
I still cling tightly to.

I suppose I must smell a little like
The slick, harsh weight
Of all my smirk and sarcasm
And a little like
The silent, crushing tears
I try to keep within.

 

 

 

I liked this better as just the first verse...

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