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I live in my filth Making flowers wilt With the stench I built Until my life tilts I meet someone And have some fun But once I’m done Their scent can stun Our game of anything goes Gets lodged in my nose Until I’ve completely froze Thinking of the path I chose Long after *** I can smell their mess From a cologne flex Becoming my hex The sepulcher scent Of their sulfur vent Is where I sadly went For a companion to rent The foul smell Of this towered well Traps me in hell With its noxious spell I’m reminded of my decision By the stench’s incision Which seems like derision Preferable to loneliness envisioned I yearn to be number After my returning lover Smells like burning rubber So I just turn to another When they’re unfit I can smell their **** In an aromatic blitz Nullifying my wit Through kisses and licks Their scent sticks Quite thick As the clock ticks Through the calendar I smell no lavender Just the scavengers Who are crag senders They try to banish me But instead of vanishing I block my nose handily And continue my caroling My mouth sings As a new day brings A triumphant spring Meant for kings Once I’m in a different state Their scent dissipates After I let go of hate And accept their traits
0
Feb 21, 2019
Feb 21, 2019 at 10:56 AM UTC
Scent
I live in my filth Making flowers wilt With the stench I built Until my life tilts I meet someone And have some fun But once I’m done Their scent can stun Our game of anything goes Gets lodged in my nose Until I’ve completely froze Thinking of the path I chose Long after *** I can smell their mess From a cologne flex Becoming my hex The sepulcher scent Of their sulfur vent Is where I sadly went For a companion to rent The foul smell Of this towered well Traps me in hell With its noxious spell I’m reminded of my decision By the stench’s incision Which seems like derision Preferable to loneliness envisioned I yearn to be number After my returning lover Smells like burning rubber So I just turn to another When they’re unfit I can smell their **** In an aromatic blitz Nullifying my wit Through kisses and licks Their scent sticks Quite thick As the clock ticks Through the calendar I smell no lavender Just the scavengers Who are crag senders They try to banish me But instead of vanishing I block my nose handily And continue my caroling My mouth sings As a new day brings A triumphant spring Meant for kings Once I’m in a different state Their scent dissipates After I let go of hate And accept their traits
andrew-rueter
Written by
30/M/Kentucky
Feb 21, 2019
Feb 21, 2019 at 10:56 AM UTC
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