i used to love the smell of roasted chicken on Saturdays, the smell of honey, the smell of detergent in the bathroom.
but the chicken doesn't taste like a full stomach anymore.
it's tastes like calories.
it tastes like 3 miles of running.
it tastes like stepping on the weighing scale with your eyes closed cause you don't want to see the numbers change anymore.
honey doesn't taste like flowers anymore.
it smells like white bandages stained red.
it tastes like the are you sure you want to reset? button on the i am sober app,
it tastes like a guilty conscience.
when i open the bathroom door on Fridays and i smell detergent it doesn't taste like cleanliness anymore.
it smells like the taste of blood that pools in my mouth when i pour disinfectant on an open wound.
it smells like one more blood and Lysoform stained cotton fiock piling up in the bathroom trash bin.
it tastes bitter and i can feel it in my mouth and it's overflowing and its all over the floor now and it smells like empty promises.
-smells, tastes
-V.
YOU ARE READING
iridescent mind: poetry by me
Poetrymainly vent poetry. I'm really only posting this for myself but if anyone wants to read it you're welcome to. TWs on the first chapter i promise the poems get better if you go on sometimes I'll attach photos or drawings i made.(like the cover)
