Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Apr 2020
It's like the days don't have names anymore. Friday sounds like a foreign word on the native tongue of routine. Exhausted, I leave the solace of my couch and wander towards my bedroom.The wooden floor screeches at me with each step I take. I turn on the light and find a messy bed cornered into the wall. Next to it is a crowded dresser – the home of two empty cups, a lamp collecting dust, a used candle, and a retro-finished coaster neighboring an unfinished book. I flash a weak smile as I light the candle scented almond macaroons that immediately permeates my room. To be honest I'm not a big fan of sweets, but how can you oppose the smell of a dozen macadamia nut cookies baking in your room? I flick on the lamp and collaspe in my bed like we haven't seen each other in weeks. Finally, I'm home.
AB
Written by
AB  Louisville
(Louisville)   
62
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems