The very sweatshirt i was wearing still smells like him. His cologne , old spice, created a very distinct smell when mixed with his own aroma. For me, it was an unforgettable smell
As of now i cant bring myself to wash the damb thing. I want to wash it away so bad, i want to wash you away. Oh god, i cant begin to tell you how much of a relief it would be to rid my sweatshirt of him, but i cant and i hate myself for it.
i never thought i would find it so painful to hold on to memories. but i continue to cling so tightly to our past. i know for a fact ill never be able to forget our memories because unlike other memories that will fade away, you wont. just like the part of yourself you left on my unwashed sweatshirt.
YOU ARE READING
Wild Child
Poetrythis is a book of poetry just like any other. the big difference is ... its mine and no one else. thats why you should read it. not that I'm trying to be cocky, I'm trying to give you a good enough reason to read this collection poems instead of jus...
