I still try to wash you from my life,
my body,
my mind,
I still take all my clothes,
my sheets,
my towels
And put them in a wash with too much detergent praying that this time,
You will not be there anymore,
That your scent which I know faded months ago,
Will be erased from my memory.
I still smell that ******* hoodie which sits folded in my closet,
Like it did,
When it,
When I,
Waited for you to come back and
Claim it,
Claim me.
I still smell what I used to when I burrowed my head into your chest,
And get hit with a wave of nostalgia,
Breathing deeper than I ever had before,
Because you taught me what breathing felt like.
Because you showed me that I had never known what air in my lungs felt like before
Because I feel like there is water in my ******* lungs and I am gasping for air daily.



[This will never be finished. I have nothing left to say. There is nothing left to say. This will be added to the collection of unfinished work which will never see the light of day again. Because we all need to give up on something in this world. And I can't give up on you as easily as you did to me. So I will give up on putting my thoughts on a page with some grace and delicacy and fluidity that moves perfectly. I will give up on that]

(e.m.w)