my life is a fragrant mess
filled with scents of the musty past
my head is dizzy with all the smells
that hit me with a blast
the moment i unchain the locked door
to the room with the perfumes
my legs shake
and collapse to the floor
overcome by deja vu
my memories are sad
tinged with a shade of blue
my memories are rarely happy
and none of them are new
for my life is morose and grim
saddened with self-pity
i write poetry to remind myself
life isn't all that pretty
i sit among a field of flowers
quietly picking stems
of those i find the ugliest
those i press to leather books
and to history i condemn
one for every broken heart
one for every locked door
one for every kiss we shared
until we fell apart.