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My Smell MAG
I suppose I must smell a little like
The toxic aftertaste
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.
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I feel like smell is an underrated sense in poetry...