Phlox in a field leave a lovely smell in the air. Yet, the fragrance of them cannot compare to the scent on my pillow when last you were there...
pictures of you that i
stapled to my
pillow, so that
you're there when
i'm lonely or
so that you
sop up my sobs and
soak in my screams, you
are beneath my deepest dreams and my
I woke up,
looked down at my pillow,
and hoped that my dreams would drip out.
and now you are stuck in my dream
that I will never see again.
I wish the pain would stop hurting feeling more and more alone.
All that's left are memories of the way things were between us.
Half written poems we never finished
An old notebook full of our thoughts.
No more late night pillow talks.
Now there will always be apart of me
That is missing.
Now we are worlds apart don't you go
And forget about me.
You'll always be in my heart.
the number of pillows in my bed
is the number of worries in my head
i have also a pillow
that never leaves my bed
tucked beside my heart
reserved for you
A family friend recently
Gave me a Pillow
That I thought was so comfy.
She said "Please get this **** thing
Off my couch."
And I proudly accepted.
I brought it home, cuddled
Put my face to it's round corner
The smell this pillow Gave wasn't too Familiar, no.
It smelled like family movie nights,
Eating at dinner tables.
It smelled like missing a sibling,
But knowing they'll be home when you get there.
It smelled like affection from a tired mother, And falling asleep on her chest.
The smell, not so familiar
Sent me chills
Because the round corners smelled like Everything I crave.
The soft, tender touch of a hand,
And knowing it's not of judging intent.
The smells upon this pillow
Reminding me that
I don't have a way to satisfy my
I am currently cuddling a shirt of someone's I love. I am very sad.
Everytime I lay my head upon my pillow
I am reminded of your smell
The sweet scent that brought me much comfort
It lingers as though you are still there
Pulling me close to you
As we drift into dreams
Version 2: A ***** pillow case, I don't want to wash
When I lay my head upon my pillow
I swear I can smell you
the manly but sweet smell
that has always brought me comfort
but I can't tell if my pillow case is holding onto your scent
or if sleeping reminds me so much of you
that my brain makes it up
people see what they want to see
and maybe it’s a weakness you’ve grown out of
maybe it’s a past you’ve shed like second skin
people will hold on to things you’ve let go of
so you’ve got to love yourself
enough to make up for the ones who spite you
enough to tell yourself you’ve done a good job
when your head hits the pillow at night
people will say things intended to cut you and leave you with open wounds
you are not the mistakes you’ve made-
do not let them convince you otherwise