I took a shower to get off the scent of you.
Did you know that you have a scent?
It smells like blushed cheeks and the hands that I buried my face in every time there was an awkward silence.
It smells like the cold air and falling snow as you pressed me up against my car.
It smells like you calling me baby, darling, or honey.
It smells like the first time we had sex, and I told you that you smelled like ginger.
It smells like talking to you for hours about the most random things and the connection I thought was there.
It smells like knowing you were avoiding me before you even told me, knowing there was something wrong even though you said there wasn't.
It smells like opening my phone to message you and seeing that you had deleted me on all accounts.
I used to go to bed with these smells on me.
Now, I scrub them off so I can forget.
Did you know that you have a scent?
It smells like blushed cheeks and the hands that I buried my face in every time there was an awkward silence.
It smells like the cold air and falling snow as you pressed me up against my car.
It smells like the first time we had sex, and I told you that you smelled like ginger.
It smells like talking to you for hours about the most random things and the connection I thought was there.
It smells like knowing you were avoiding me before you even told me, knowing there was something wrong even though you said there wasn't.
It smells like opening my phone to message you and seeing that you had deleted me on all accounts.
I used to go to bed with these smells on me.
Now, I scrub them off so I can forget.
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